Professor Layton and the Sky Prison
by Pocru
Summary: This story has been canceled... I'm sorry... ch. 19 explains it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton, and in a unusual twist it's one of the few series which I'm glad of this fact: I couldn't do nearly as well a job as the current owner does.

Authors note: Don't get me wrong, I still love me my Okami-Juice, but, lets be honest here: Professor Lyaton is my new favorite game. I adored the first game and equally adored the second, and it brings me such… giddy joy at the knowledge I'm not even halfway done. I'm eager and excited to the whoa at the concept of playing the rest of the games- and, dare I say it: see the movie.

But right now, Monies is low and as are Professor Layton games, and I have a slim period of free time: I just finished my last huge high-school project and I'm MONTHS away from the busy-life of a college career and a flash programmer. So as you can tell, I want to take advantage of this sliver. It'll be the last extended moments of freedom in my life for a long while.

As such, I don't want this brief moment to be Professor-Layton-less. So with nothing else, I might as well write some KICK-ASS FANFICTION… or at least, try real hard to do that. As such, please enjoy: Don't worry, there are puzzles abound!

Thanks!

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Chapter 1

~Troubling News~

As a professor, there were very little constants in Layton's life: his classes changed regularly, and his lessons varied from class to class, student to student. Things were always coming and going in his house: pack rat that he was, he simply couldn't fit every new scholarly article or puzzle-book into his already cramped quarters, and have proper living conditions for the two children in his care: as such, he would periodically have to part ways with some of his treasured tombs or other assorted works. However, if there was one constant that he could be assured of in his lifetime, it would be the scent of tea wafting through the air. That smell was always there, like a stain on the very air itself: it was a rich aroma, seeming to collect the most delightful qualities of each tea he had ever made and fusing it with a greater body. This constant smell was a delight to all living under the roof, as it filled them with an energy and vibrancy they seemed to lack in the outside world, where wind and wear would steal such precious odors away from them. Only in the home were they able to relax and savor this sensation, and relax they did: it was impossible to get upset or aggressive when surrounded by such a sweet perfume.

Nevertheless, that was different this morning. While the fragrance was still there, and as potent as ever, something else lingered in the air as well. A sort of frozen anticipation that was made immediately clear to the dedicated professor as he first preyed his eyelids open. It troubled him, and his never-fail intuition was also aware of this sudden change, but never one to act on solely instinct, he didn't allow this new feeling to damper his normally chipper morning attitude.

A gentleman never gets up before he wakes up, after all.

But get up he did, and after dressing himself for another day he pushed open his door and neared the apparent source of this disturbance: it was made all too clear what the problem was.

Flora was making tea for Luke.

He immediately breathed a small, unnoticeable sigh of relief and greeted the children with a smile, both turning upon hearing his footsteps.

"Making the morning tea again, are we? How delightful."

Thankfully, gentlemen had the capacity to lie. It came in handy in such situations. He sat himself next to Luke and the two shared a troubled glance as Flora put the finishing touches on her newest creation.

"I hope you like it!" She declared with a spring in her step, pouring the formula into the teacups, which had preemptively been placed before each chair, "I went to the market early and picked up some new ingredients! The man at the market was even nice enough to scoop them out and package them for me!"

"I-I'm sure it'll be lovely…" Luke spat out, clearly disturbed by the way the tea seemed to dissolve the fine glass.

"Thank you greatly, Flora." Layton politely showed gratitude to his adopted daughter and picked up the teacup, pulling the surely poisonous liquid up to his dry lips. The two watched him do this eagerly: Flora for confirmation that her labor would be worthwhile, and Luke to make sure he wouldn't need to call an ambulance.

He took his first sip.

Time stood still. For what seemed like an eternity, everything had entirely frozen, even breathing and heartbeats were completely stopped.

His eyes widened. He pulled it away from his mouth and put the cup on the table gently.

"Its… quite good!" He was so shocked by the fact he didn't even remember to mask his surprise. "Luke, my boy, you must try this!"

His apprentice was still wary of the drink, but decided to overcome his fear for the professors sake and quickly chugged the tea that was before him, only to find he immediately regretted doing so: he would of much rather savored it, because in fact, it was just as the professor had said!

"Goodness! This is something, isn't it! It's sweet at the tip of your tongue, sour at the base, and a delicious blend of the two in-between!" He turned to Flora, a smile beaming on his youthful face. "This is great! What did you do!?"

Flora, nearly drunk with joy at doing something food-related right for a change, ran over to a notepad and started to read off all she had done to produce this recipe.

"I got some different roots and a sweet-looking berry over at the market… and this oriental herb, I forget its name… oh, gosh, I can't remember any of their names!"

Layton looked over at her, confused. "My, my, this is troubling. You can't remember any of them?"

She shook her head. "No, I mean, I have all the names written down, but… they're in a different order than my descriptions of the ingredients! Oh, I knew I'd screw it up somehow!"

Layton and Luke just smiled, and said in unison, as if they'd practiced it:

"Every puzzle has an answer!"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 1)~**

**~Flora's Mistake~**

**10/10**

Flora made a mistake in her notes about her tea: as it turned out, she had written the name of the ingredient in the order she bought them, but wrote the description of the ingredient in the order she put it in the pot.

Sweet-Red Plum___________________________________________________Sticky

Eversong root ____________________________________________________Soft and salty-looking

Green Leaf _______________________________________________________Big and Colorful!

Sour-clover_______________________________________________________ Almost depressing to look at…

Flora remembers this:

"I know Eversong Root is the only one that's adjacent to the correct description… I put the Sour Clover and Sweet-red Plum In the pot with a spoon… and I remember that I almost didn't buy the Sweet-Red plum."

Can you figure out what description belongs with what ingredient? Don't judge based on names! Once you think you have it, scroll down and check the answers.

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Get it yet? Here are the correct answers:

Sweet-Red Plum = Almost depressing to look at

Eversong root = Soft and Salty looking

Green Leaf = Sticky

Sour-clover = Big and Colorful!

Eversong Root was already given, so it's easier to just ignore it in the puzzle. Sour Clover and Sweet-Red Plum were put in with a spoon, so Flora never touched them: knowing this, she had to touch the Green Leaf and could describe it as sticky. With these two eliminated, all you have to do is remember Flora's sunny disposition: she naturally might hesitate to buy something that made her depressed, so she must of labeled the Sweet-Red Plum as such. With three solved, it's the process of elimination to label the Sour-clover.

If you got this right, give yourself all ten picarats. If you got it wrong, give yourself six: keep track of these! How many you have might affect the story!

* * *

"Oh, thank you." She let out a long-winded sigh of relief. "I'm sorry for ruining your morning tea with my problems, professor."

He let out a gentleman's laugh and smiled at her with his soft eyes.

"Nonsense! Nothing wakes me up quite like a simple brainteaser. I've found this morning is off to a grand start, and I hope this is an omen for good things to come."

But in this case, his hopefulness wouldn't pay off. After enjoying the rest of Flora's mysteriously delicious tea, Layton asked Luke to fetch the morning paper: the loyal assistant he was, Luke set right out and soon came back with both the paper and an unmarked envelope.

"I wonder what this is…": he asked to himself aloud as he reentered the kitchen, examining the envelope as he sat back down in his chair: the newspaper was folded neatly and held in the boy's armpit.

Layton noticed this and gave his companion a inquisitive look.

"What do you have there?"

Realizing he was probably tampering with his elder's mail, Luke quickly put it down on the table and looked his mentor in the eyes: Flora, who was now sitting at the table slowly eating her breakfast, gave the letter a once-over with her eyes as well.

"I don't know, professor! It was inside the newspaper, like a bookmark!"

Picking it up with dainty fingers, the professor examined it himself, and not coming to any decisive conclusions, tore open the seal and looked inside: a note, as what could be expected.

Seeing no reason not to read aloud, the Professor began.

"The key to justice is in the following riddle."

He looked up from the smudged paper and gazed at the two.

"My…"

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**~(Puzzle 2)~**

**~A Mysterious Riddle~**

**5/5**

Layton and co. have gotten a strange riddle! Can you solve it?

"Many use it, few own one.

It is used to hide

Yet everyone can see you.

What is it?"

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Answer: A mask!

If you got this right, go ahead and give yourself five shiny new Picarats! If you got it wrong, you get none. Sorry!

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"All things considered, this is a very simple riddle." Layton declared, tossing the paper on the table and allowing the other two to examine it in more detail. "But the real puzzle here is why this was sent to me… and what it's supposed to accomplish."

Flora managed to snatch up the piece of paper before Luke could, so with nothing else to do he replied to the professor.

"I guess the mystery person knows about your amazing puzzle-solving expertise. Maybe they want you to do something?"

Layton was quiet for a moment, considering things.

"Luke, you said this envelope was inside the paper, right? Like a bookmark. Can you find me the pages it was between?"

Luke nodded and flipped through the black and white paper until he found what it was he was looking for.

"Here you go!"

The pages were ones in the back, full of assorted, minor bits of news, usually unread by the general populous but still printed on formality. Layton scanned over every article, skimming each sentence in an effort for some hidden message that could be linked to the riddle in question.

"Here we are…"

But unlike the normal smile that graced his face when he had successfully figured something out, his face seemed sober: Luke leaned over to see what article the riddle was hinting at, and Flora ran around the table and peered over the professors shoulder, her hands on his arm to help her maintain balance on her tip-toes. It didn't take long for the children to realize why their beloved mentor was so grim: the mask the riddle was referring to was a executioners hood.

"Execution of killer Edward McOpel to take place this afternoon."

There was no picture, only a brief block of text below the headline detailing the events of the case and the killer himself. All three took some time to analyze the situation… until Luke broke the silence.

"Well, professor?"

"I'm not sure, Luke. This could be some sort of prank, or just nonsense. However, this could be a legitimate cry for help, and a Gentleman cannot ignore a person in need. I suppose I'll have to go investigate."

Instantly the two children perked up, excited at the notion of a day on the town, and the thrill of a new adventure, but Layton suppressed the initial exhilaration.

"Now, now, you two. This is an execution, no place for children. I'll be investigating this by myself."

Despair swept across the room as the two children started to pout silently, both of them slumping their bodies over exaggeratedly to express their distaste for this executive decision.

"Cheer up, why don't you?" Layton grinned at them and patted their backs. "You can still enjoy this lovely day. Why not go play in the park?"

"Fine, I guess…" Luke and Flora submit, still somewhat saddened by the notion of not being able to participate or help.

"There we go. Now, it's a quarter to nine, and I want to get this business settled, so you two have fun, okay?"

And with a last crunch of toast, and a goodbye, the professor set off to Scotland Yard.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note: Chapter two is up: I must confess, I am slightly troubled: it seems my writing mojo is off, and as I re-read these to edit them I've found some pretty stupid mistakes, weird phrasing of sentences, and other oddities… normally I don't make such mistakes, but it seems my mind is a bit fried at the moment… hopefully it'll clear up soon and you won't notice thanks to diligent editing, but if you find something odd then you can attribute it to this condition.

Additionally, we have some visual-based puzzles this time around: the links may be tacky, but they're the only way I can get the puzzle to you: I tried drawing the puzzles with Word, and it worked, but Fanfiction's… unique… way to make you submit work didn't allow me to use them. I'm sorry its so annoying but without the puzzles, well... this just ain't fun for me!

That said, enjoy chapter two!

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**Chapter 2**

**~Something Unusual~**

It was a pleasant day, and despite the rather gloomy errand he was running Layton couldn't help but find himself feeling upbeat. It'd be hard to be sad on a day when the sun so brightly shone on your shoulders and the wind was strong enough to cool you off but gentle enough so you didn't have to hold your hat down. There was nigh a cloud in the sky, and the bright green leaves contrasted brilliantly with the deep blue color that painted itself across the sky. This was a rare day indeed for the normally cloudy London, and Layton felt it was important to enjoy this kind of weather whenever it made itself available. Besides, it was a short walk to the Yard, so the Laytonmobile could go a day without his attention.

As he walked down the road, he found himself greeted by friendly neighbors and old associates: he was well known in town, not only because of his grand exploits but also because of his line of work: not one student didn't walk away from his classes without a higher opinion of the teaching profession. He had a charm about him that made him seem undeniably friendly, which was why people had a tendency to greet him nicely, or confine into him some trouble plaguing them.

…but this walk was undisturbed by such troubles, which the Professor was thankful for: it was good to simply let the mind rest under the hat for a little bit. Not too much, however, lest it grow stale from inactivity.

Regardless, that was the last thing on his large brain as he strolled delightfully through the morning streets.

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"You know, I've always questioned your ability to go incognito."

Luke scratched at his cheek, which was now covered in artificial zits. This scratching earned him a motherly slap on the hand from Flora, who was in her regular disguise.

"Nonsense. The professor will be none the wiser."

She completed his costume by removing Luke's trademark hat and giving him a pair of broken sunglasses instead.

"There. You're practically a stranger."

"The professors a sharp one, I think he'll see past this."

Flora allowed an experienced grin to sweep across her face.

"That's why we stay behind him and try to blend in with the crowd. This is an intricate art, you have to practice! And if you want to be a good investigator, you'll need to follow people around."

Luke sighed.

"I still feel like a daft fool…"

"You'll get used to it. Come on!"

She grabbed his hand and they left their shared home into the London streets, only to find, to their dismay, that the professor was out of sight!

"Oh, blast…" the boy proclaimed, craning his head left and right looking for his missing mentor. Flora did the same.

"No worries!" Luke declared with a grin after sufficient neck-craning. "I'm sure we can find him!"

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**~(Puzzle 3)~**

**~Lost in the city~**

**15/15**

Luke and Flora need to find Professor Layton, who is off to Scotland Yard. They both know he always takes the same route, but they only have segmented chunks of knowledge about exactly what that path is. The link below hold the puzzles map:

http :// i301. photobucket. com /albums / nn67/ Pocru/ Professor%20Layton% 20Questions/Untitled. png

With their combined knowledge, they know this:

-He doesn't go the quickest path possible

-He only makes one U-turn

-He never travels on the eastern-bound road leading directly to the Yard more than he has to. This road has been marked red.

-Not including the two turns required for the U-turn, he makes a grand total of seven turns, four of which are rights.

-The T is the Tailor's shop: Layton got in an argument with the owner one day and they still have some bad blood over it: as such, Layton refuses to walk by it.

-He doesn't backtrack down a road he's already walked on.

What path did he travel?

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A visual one this time! Pretty tough?

The path Layton took was as follows:

http :// i301. photobucket. com / albums /nn67 / Pocru/ Professor%20Layton% 20Answers/answers. png

The trick of this was determining which U turn the Professor took. There were a lot of opportunities to take U-turns, but only one that satisfied the two conditions of not passing the Tailor's OR avoiding the red road as much as possoble. Those rules also had to be remembered after Layton took the U-turn: there were a few roads he could of taken, but the one above is the one that required the smallest amount of time on the direct road towards the Yard. Remembering how many turns he took in total, you find this is the correct answer!

If you got this, way to go! Fifteen Picarats under your hat! If you got this wrong, that's okay, this one was harder than the others: 12 you can has.

Now lets get to Layton! Hurry!

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"That way, quickly!" Luke pointed dramatically, and both of them eagerly started to dash in that direction. They didn't want to disrespect Layton's wishes by any means, but they also didn't want to spend time at the park while there was a mystery running about. It's not like they could of enjoyed themselves much anyway knowing that Layton was working. Besides, they may learn something about the case that Layton would need later.

It was their _obligation _to follow him. They practically had no say in the matter.

The professor was strolling at a casual pace, so it didn't take long for the frantic pair to catch up with him and enter stealth mode. Soon, the trio was together again, although one of them was part of this trio unwittingly.

Much to his dismay, Layton reached Scotland Yard quickly: this was where the enjoying of the day ended and the actual work had to be done. What was more, this was work that revolved around a execution, something he'd rather not see. But still, by his watch he still had a good few hours to dig unperturbed.

With his fame well-established, it wasn't hard for him to get inside the building under the pretense he was looking for something: far be it from a lowly policeman to get in the way of the great Hershel Layton. But naturally, they couldn't just let a civilian walk right in, so instead of allowing him to show himself about, he was given an audience with the one and only Inspector Chelmey, and he was soon escorted over to his office.

Flora and Luke wouldn't have such an easy time penetrating the walls of the diligent London Police. An oversight they probably should of realized earlier.

"Now what?" Luke asked, leaning against a wall of a nearby pub as he gazed longingly at the building. Flora started to think, but didn't come up with anything.

"Well, we're both clever." Luke sighed as he sat himself down on the street, Flora quickly following suit. "I'm sure if we mull it over together, we can think of something."

The office of Chelmey was small and cramped, and almost entirely full of things not entirely necessary to his job, such as a rather large number of pictures (mostly of his beloved wife) and his fair share of detective novels, which he seemed to use for a source of inspiration. The desk he sat at, however, was all business, orderly and arranged with papers and unsolved case files detailing the going-on's of London's criminal underbelly. The inspector looked irked to have the good Professor in his face and disposed of the pleasantries.

"What do you want, Layton? Here to solve one of my cases for me again?"

"Hardly." Layton responded with a good-natured laugh, but his humor-filled sentiments weren't shared by the agitated detective. "I received a most interesting tip and I was rather hopeful you'd allow me to have a brief discussion with a fellow called Edward McOpel."

The inspector gave his peer a look of confusion.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Layton. I haven't even heard of a criminal by that name."

Naturally, the confusion Inspector felt was mutual with one dumbfounded professor.

"How queer. Do you have an issue of today's newspaper?"

Wordlessly Chelmey pulled out an issue of the day's news and tossed it to the Professor.

"I don't know what you're up to, but I have to believe you have a reason for it."

Layton nodded in appreciation and flipped to the page where the notice was posted: only to find it wasn't there. In fact, the entire two pages looked different.

"How… very odd…" If the Archeologist wasn't interested before, he certainly was interested now: he knew for a fact he saw a notice for an execution, but why wasn't it in the copy of the inspectors paper? Something was amiss.

"Would you mind terribly," the Archeologist requested, "If I took this copy of the paper home?"

Chelmey shrugged.

"Go ahead. But tell me, Layton, why are you here? Who is this Edward fellow you spoke about?"

The Professor stood up and looked down at the inspector, who was still sitting.

"I'm not sure, but I'll do my best to find out."

And with a tip of his famous hat, Layton was gone, leaving a baffled and annoyed detective behind him.

Outside, Hershel was greeted to the sight of his two beloved companions clumsily stacking boxes atop each other in an effort to scale the daunting wall imposed before them, a testament to their future careers as cat burglars, clearly. Naturally, Layton was a bit surprised, to say the least.

"Luke? Flora? What on earth are you doing?"

The two nearly jump out of their skin, causing the already teetering tower of objects below them to collapse upon itself, taking the children down with it. When the smoke cleared, the two were trying their best to crawl their way out of the heap of trash they had made. Layton couldn't help but smile at the sight, but he quickly hid it so he could properly interrogate the minors.

"I'm sorry, professor!" Luke cried the second he managed to escape the rubble, "It was Flora's idea, I swear it!"

The Puzzle-master frowned.

"Luke, blaming a lady isn't how a Gentleman does things. It doesn't matter if it was her idea, you don't go pointing fingers."

"But professor-"

"Luke…"

And that's where all speaking ended, Flora and Luke standing in front of the man they admired, heads down in shame. After scolding them with his silence, the Professor eventually spoke up.

"Don't worry about it: I had a feeling you two couldn't resist this kind of thing. Come now, let us go home. I have a new clue."

Both looked up with sparkling eyes and blushing faces, overjoyed that their tutor didn't reject them for their disobedience. Soon they were all on their way home, Layton leading the way and the two children following like the little ducklings they were.

The table was cleared and the two papers were laid side-by-side to allow the investigators to compare the pages.

"At first glance, they look very different, and the 'special' paper's articles seem to be nonsense," Professor Layton said, tracing his fingers across the words on the cheap paper. "But I'm guessing there's more to it than that. Luke? Flora? Any ideas?"

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**~(Puzzle 4)~**

**~Hidden Message 1~**

**30/30**

Two newspapers are side by side: you know that both hold a two-word hidden message. You know that in order to find the message, you need to compare headlines in the same position as the other, so each headline will only provide the correct clue if compared to the headline across from it. Use the headlines of both papers to solve this little puzzle. Here's a clue: the first word is four letters long.

Normal Paper ________________________________________Special Paper 

**Looking for a Nanny_______________________________Buy the Locket **

**Fire House Put Out________________________________I Pick Uganda **

**Benefits of Logs___________________________________Black Mill **

**Crime Spree Waning ______________________________Cat dud flood**

"**I lost my Ticket"_________________________________ Hot in the bath! **

**Just Say No_______________________________________Never!**

This is a tricky one, so good luck! There are some hints provided below, but be warned: If you look at them, you'll lose Picarats!

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Hint one:

One part of the actual message will be mixed: additional decoding will be needed after you find all the right letters.

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Hint two:

There are two words in the answer, and the first word is already in the right order: the first word is Loki. The key's to finding this word are in the first headlines, and part of the second ones. Can you see how this word is found?

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Hint three:

The key to finding the answer isn't in the words, but the letters used: compare the last two, "Just say No" and "Never". Looking at the letters: what do they have in common?

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Figure it out? Great! You should know by now the answer!

Answer: Loki Publication!

This one was challenging, I'll grant you that. The key to solving this is looking at the letters in each headline: there's a reason the special headlines are so odd. Its because each headline only shares certain letters with each other. If you separate these letters, you get this:

Loki upbilcaotin

From there, you just have to do some basic unscrambling to get the final message, Loki Publication.

If you got this without using a single hint, great! You get all 30 Picarats! If you used one hint, you still did good, so you get 27. Two, that's okay as well, but you only get 24. Three, you get a decent 21 Picarats. If you didn't get it at all, you get 15 for your effort.

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"Loki Publications…" Luke pondered aloud, unable to mask his puzzlement. "I've never heard of them, professor."

Layton nodded slowly and stood up from his chair, walking over to the cupboard to prepare some tea: to help him think and relax.

"They're a small publishing company, quite small, mostly focusing on novelettes and other cheaper forms of entertainment." Layton inhaled the scent of tea in the air, allowing it to calm his mind, before continuing. "I've only heard of them myself because I've had to confiscate their more unsavory work from some of my rowdier students."

The professor found all the ingredients he was looking for and continued, the girl and boy sitting at the table hanging on his every word.

"What they have to do with this ordeal is quite perplexing… there's a whole slew of unsolved mysteries in this so far. Who gave me the letter? Why was this newspaper faulty? How was I supposed to figure out I was to compare this newspaper to another, normal one? Why was this even published? And is this Edward fellow even a real person?"

"So what now, then?" Flora asked, excited for both his answer and his tea, which she always thought was better than her own.

"The day is young, Flora my girl!" Layton exclaimed with a smile. "Even in the case this is just some prank, well, a prank this intricate and fascinating deserves at the very least to be played out! We'll investigate Loki Publications as soon as this tea is finished: it'd be a shame to waste it now."

And so the three sat down and savored another one of the Professors delicious brews, each mind fantasizing over where this mystery would take them. It had been a good while sense they had anything this exciting to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors note: HI! I hope the puzzles, the meat-and-potatoes of the Professor Layton series, have been going well so far: this is only the second multi-chapter I've written, and I have to say this one is much harder than the first. Not only do I have to make sure the mystery is propelled forward, but I also have to re-read and check the puzzles to make sure there aren't any problems with them: Some I've had to re-read FOUR times until I found a mistake, so it can be quite tedious. That's because I don't just rip off puzzles from the internet: each and every puzzle is one I've thought up myself. I do a pretty decent job, I'd like to think!

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Chapter 3

**~Loki Publication ~**

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**~(Puzzle 5)~**

**~"Luke! Flora! Wait for me!"~**

**10/10**

Layton, Luke, and Flora are going to Loki Publication, a building 12 miles away. Luke, being the paragon of youthful health, can run at three miles an hour. Flora is competitive and can keep up with him, but her days as a spoiled rich girl has slowed her down, so she can reach a max of two miles an hour. Layton, being the middle aged man he is, can't outpace either and can stumble at 1 mile an hour.

All three move as fast as they can, take the same path, and none backtrack. And yet, somehow, they all reach Loki Publication at the same time! How is this possible?

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Answer: They drove! The Laytonmobile isn't just for show, you know!

This is an example of a Lateral thinking puzzle. They're usually sly questions like this, and there are usually more than one answer, which is why you don't see them very often in the Professor Layton games.

If you got this right, give yourself all ten, as usual. Wrong, you can still walk away a richer puzzler with 6 Picarats.

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It was lunchtime now, but not one of the people in the car had food on their mind: rather, they were antsy with nervousness as they parked in front of the shoddy-looking building that housed Loki Publications. The company was appropriately located in one of the worse parts of towns, and the finely-dressed gentlemen and the equally-well-composed lady got more than a few stares from the rag-tag, rough residents of this district. They weren't used to seeing such clean, well shaven fellows: people of Layton's class tended to avoid this side of the city at all costs.

"Keep close to me." Layton whispered to the children as he helped them out of the car. The Professor had to confess, he didn't feel comfortable leaving his precious automobile unattended in the presence of such lower-class folk, but he quickly disbanded such thoughts from his mind: as uncouth as they were, he had to have a basic faith in the goodness of humanity. Besides, how could they break into such a finely constructed car?

Little did they know that someone did have their eyes on the car, and was waiting in the shadows for Layton to abandon it.

And abandon he did. Giving it a final backwards glance, he guided his assistants into the building: the two youngin's were looking around curiously at this new part of town, as nether of them had ever ventured into such a place before. It was both exhilarating and scary at the same time, seeing such… filth. Their obsessive glances at the people were stopped, however, as the Professor lead them inside and promptly blocked their vision by closing the door behind him.

The receptionist was reading something when the trio came in, caught unaware by their sudden visit, and didn't even notice them until Layton approached and announced himself.

"Good day, ma'am." He placed his hand on the desk and smiled at her. "My name is Professor Layton and I was hoping I could talk to the owner of this fine establishment."

She glanced up from her reading and eyed him suspiciously.

"_The_ Hershel Layton? I doubt it. I bet you're one of them… oh, whatta they called…"

"…impersonators?" He politely aided her in her accusation.

"Yeah! One a' them! We don't just let any ol' hack walk in on Mr. Palmer! If you're really Professor Layton, you'll help me solve this puzzle, you will."

"I'll see what I can do…" He leaned over the desk to look at what it was she was working on: it seemed no matter where he went he was surrounded by puzzles… which was fine, he loved them.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 6)~**

**~The Cat, the Goat, and the Rabbit~**

**5/5**

"Well, what we got here is this man has a Cat, a Goat and a Rabbit, yeah? Well, he got three pen's to keep em' in, one-two-three, lined up next to each other, and he don't know what to do, see? Some law says he has to keep the animals in the pen, cant let the fella's run around, and this is a problem cause if the rabbit's pin is next to the cats, the cat will go ahead and swipe at the poor fella and scare im' to death. But if the rabbit's pin is next to the goat's, the goat'll use its bigger body to bully the poor thing, reach over the fence and eat all its food, right? So, how can the guy arrange the pen's so the littl' rabbit isn't bothered by the goat n' cat?"

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This was an easy one, if you just think outside the box (Pun intended)

The solution is to keep the cat and the goat in the same pin, leave the middle one unoccupied, and put the rabbit in the one farthest away from the Cat and Goat. The cat won't be able to scare the goat, and the Goat doesn't eat the same stuff as a Cat, so it won't bother the feline or steal its food.

If you got this right, creative thinking for the win! Five points! If you didn't get it right, you get nothing: don't feel bad, it's a minor loss.

* * *

"That how its done, eh?" She seemed content and put away the book. "That there was a warm up, I tell ya! The next one won't be so easy!"

Layton, never boastful in victory, tipped his hat.

"I'm sure it wont be. But with my identity confirmed, may I go see Mr. Palmer? I have some matters I'd like to discuss with him."

She gave a toothy smile at the three and gestured to the door. "Go on ahead! He acts all tough but the man don't do a lick a work around here. He's the second door on the far left."

With an appreciative nod, the professor took the hands of Luke and Flora and walked through the door into the hallway: the place was just as gaudy on the inside as it was on the outside, although the reception area was well enough composed to hide this fact on the surface. All three of them looked around at the scruffy place until they reached the correct door, at which Layton knocked before pulling it open.

"Excuse me," Layton peeked his head in, "Is this the office of Mr. Palmer?"

Inside there was a pudgy, short man sitting at a desk that dwarfed him by comparison, his legs resting up on the fine wood lazily.

"Sure is!" He sneered at the professor, "Whatta want?"

Layton fully opened the door and walked up to the desk of the man, the two children following closely behind. When Mr. Palmer's eyes rested on the faces of the two kids, he immediately sat up and glared at Layton fiercely.

"Oh, not another one of these. BELLA! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET ANGRY PARENTS IN!" He yelled past the three visitors, this Bella person he was hollering at was probably the receptionist. With that outburst out of the way he quickly addressed the three before him. "Look, Jack, I don't care if your kiddies had a nightmare because they found some of our work in your don't-touch drawer, these books are clearly labeled-"

"We're not here," Layton quickly interrupted and corrected the infuriated man, "To critique your work. This is my assistant, Luke, and my daughter, Flora."

Luke and Flora nodded as a greeting, but the greeting wasn't returned.

"Then why ya here? Make it snappy, I'm a busy man."

"Luke, the papers, please."

Luke pulled out the two newspapers he had been keeping in his shoulder-bag and laid them out before Mr. Palmer, who eyed them suspiciously.

"We found two versions of today's paper: one normal copy and a special one we received from a stranger. Both held a hidden message that lead us to your company, and we were wondering if you had any knowledge of any facts that might pertain to this."

The man was doubtful, so the three of them took the time to explain the puzzle to him: even with these facts in his face, he questioned the authenticity of their claim.

"That's quite the theory you kiddies have, but it could easily be a coincidence."

"We're not willing to make that assumption." Layton retorted.

"Yeah!" Luke added, tired of silently watching, "Someone could be in real trouble!"

Mr. Palmer raised an eyebrow at this, as there had been no previous indication of any sort of risk involved with this endeavor, but decided not to question it and simply took their word for it.

"I wouldn't know much about this kind of thing, boys and girls. I'd ask Jerry, though: he works for us and the Times as well. He might have somethin' to do with this."

"I see… do you know where this Jerry is now?"

"Sure. He's workin' today. He's one of our editors, he's right next door. Go ahead and walk in on him, he pretends to work but doesn't do anything."

Flora leaned over and whispered to Luke

"With so many people not working it's a wonder they get anything done."

The two shared a silent giggle as Layton thanked the man and ushered them out into the hallway again. He noticed their little laugh at the apparent inefficiency of the company, but didn't' comment on it. Instead, he knocked on the door next to the bosses and cracked it open, peeking his eyes through.

"Hello, is this the off-"

He stopped: a hand on the floor…? Instantly, he swung the door open fully to find a man lying on the ground, unmoving. The assistants stopped what they were doing as well and peered through the doorway: they both inhaled sharply at the sight and found themselves unable to breath.

"Professor… is he…?" Flora asked, her words muffled as her hands were placed over her mouth.

Layton bent over and checked the pulse: the man was, in fact, dead. Recently deceased, in fact… taking a quick look around the room, he could easily see everything was in order: nothing broken or out of place, so there mustn't of been a struggle. After this realization, he turned to his cohorts.

"Dear… Luke, quickly, go tell the receptionist of this, Flora, get Mr. Palmer, I'm sure he wants to know."

The two nodded: Flora, who had never seen a body before, wanted to avoid lingering around it longer than she had too. Luke was used to dealing with that sort of pressure, however, and was able to react much more appropriately to the situation and instantly dashed off: it took Flora a moment to compose herself, but then gathered up Mr. Palmer. Seeing how much closer he was to the situation, he was the first of the co-workers on the scene.

"My word, the girl told me something-"

He stopped upon seeing the body. He, too, wasn't used to the sight of a corpse, but there was something else that made him freeze.

"Who… who is this?" Palmer walked up to the body and looked at it carefully.

"This isn't Jerry…"


	4. Chapter 4

Authors notes: Chapter four is here! I hope you've been able to keep up with things… I'm doing my best to translate the idea's in my head to the page. Mysteries can be hard, so please try to be patient, and keep track o' them Picarats. You never know how they might affect the story!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**~The usual Suspects~**

The police got to the scene quickly: they usually had officers posted around this part of town anyway, so the response time was fast. As the detectives gathered around the body and looked it over for clues, everyone else, including Professor Layton and his crew, were removed from the room and clustered into a corner in the reception area, along with every employee that was in the building at the time. A police officer was standing in front of the door, detaining them in the room, not allowing them to leave until the inspector arrived and could grill each and every suspect.

Flora was still in a bit of shock, and was huddle close to the Professor, his arm reassuringly wrapped around her shoulders. Luke, on the other hand, was standing before the two, scratching his chin.

"This is weird, professor… I mean, the man was dead, but there wasn't a drop of blood on the carpet. There was no sign of a struggle in the room, and we were right next door and we didn't hear a peep. And finally, the man in there is a stranger! What on earth could be going on?"

"It is true there are many elements we don't seem to understand at the moment," The Professor responded: he was hesitant to discuss the case aloud with Flora around, not wanting to disturb her further, but he knew this was a mystery that would have to be solved. So rather than not discuss the issue at hand he would simply chose his words carefully. "But there are a few things we know."

"Like?"

"Well, we know that Jerry must of checked into work today… Mr. Palmer said the man was working, so he must of at least seen Jerry. Isn't that right, Mr. Palmer?"

The company head was situated close to Layton, and was thinking things over himself. He was more than willing to cooperate with any sort of attempt to find the truth, it seemed, as he responded very promptly.

"Yeah, he came in. We had a cup a' Joe and I saw him walk into his office. He never makes a sound all day so I wasn't ever suspicious."

"There's more we can learn while apprehended in this room. Did any of you see a stranger in the building this morning? Or did you see Jerry leave the building? Give me details from around nine in the morning."

Layton was addressing the six other employee's that were working that day, who were also seated nearby: There was Bella, the receptionist, Jake, the Janitor, Frankie, the writer, Bob, another Editor, June, another writer, and Georgia, the advertiser. All six of them had heard of the great Professor Layton and his marvelous exploits, so they were all a bit star-struck upon hearing him ask them for assistance.

"Why, I was at me office at nine sharp. At nine o' one I got up and fetched me that puzzle-book you helped me ou' with earlier, professa. At nine o' two I went o'ver to Georgia's office, thinkin' she was callin' for me, but her office was bare. At nine o' three I was in the staff break room, still lookin' for Georgia, but came up without a trace o' anyone. At nine o' four I went to the archives to pick up that puzzle book you helped me with earlier, Mr. Layton, and at nine o' five I was back at me desk at the reception room, yeah?"

Jake, a man the Professor hadn't seen before his entrapment in the receptionists room, spoke up next: he had a gruff voice that seemed to scrape on the ears unpleasantly.

"I do most of my workin' at closing time. Don't even wash me hands till' after lunch. I was lookin' for Georgia at nine, though… I checked out my closet to make sure all my stuff was in working order at nine-o' one… at nine' o two I was lookin' for a book to read myself but the book I was reading was gone… guess I lost it … at nine o' three I was in the east hallway cause I was hearin' Georgia grumblin' about some trash bein' found on the floor… at Nine o' four I went to the staff break room in case Bob was there so I could give im' a peace of my mind for that trash tossed about.. and at nine o' five I was still looking for Bob in the staff meeting room."

Frankie was a tall man, skinny as well, with a bad haircut and a worse choice of clothes. He seemed like the kind of man who tried to hard to fit in, causing him to be rejected more.

"It's kind of a shame for me to say, but I spent most of my time doodling in my office. But I do like to stretch my legs out every once in a while: at nine o'clock I was in my office. At nine o' one I was wandering the east halls aimlessly. At Nine o' two I got a few pens from the staff break room: at nine o' three saw some trash and I wanted to report it to Jake, but he wasn't in his closet… then at nine o' four I went back to wanderin' the west hallway, then at nine o' five I went to the archives to… steal more pens."

Georgia, Luke, Layton and Flora could tell immediately, was a drama queen, with a weakness for exaggerating her exploits in an effort to sound more prestigious.

"I must confess, I had an inkling that something was amiss the instant I walked in this morning! I gave the staff break room a full sweep at nine looking for any strangers among us. I turned up empty handed but I kept a hawk-like eye for any sort of danger! I continued to prowl the building, checking the staff meeting room at nine o' one, but finding nothing out of the ordinary. At nine o' two, I found some trash in the east hallway and picked it up: I bet that rube Bob did that. At nine o' three I was in the west hallway, looking for more trash Bob might of left around, but didn't find trash or a stranger. Nine o' four I was In Frankie's office, to ask him if he saw any strangers, and at Nine o' five I retired back to my office… I was as protective as a watchdog, let me say!"

"Fine job you did at that…" Luke mumbled, but was nudged by the Professor to shut the boy up.

The next person on the list was Bob: it was easy to see why people accused him of leaving trash around. Frankly, he looked as dirty as the stories he edited.

"It's a fine honor to make your acutance, Mr. Layton sir. I was in the West hall at the start of nine, just barely makin' it to work on time. At nine o' one I went to the staff break room… tryin' to hide from my co-workers so I wouldn't get yelled at fo' being late again. At nine o' two I continued my hidin' in the Janitors closet, bein' real stealthy-like. At nine o' three I figured I might as well fess up, so I tried to find Bella in there but she was gone already. At nine o' four I was lookin' for some company in the staff meeting lounge, but by golly if that wasn't as empty as a farmer's skull as well! Finally at Nine o' five I went lookin for Frankie in his office, but he was MIA, as it were."

Next came sweet June, a pretty young thing who looked miserable to be working in such a business: she probably had too much talent for this company but couldn't find work anywhere else.

"Nine, I was in the East hall. Nine-one, I was looking for Frankie in his office. Nine-two, I was in the staff meeting hall. Nine-three, I was trying to find Frankie again, but he wasn't at his office still. Nine-four I was in Georgia's office looking for frank, and at nine-five I was in the west hall. I didn't see anyone."

The final person to give his statements was Mr. Palmer.

"At nine sharp, I was in my office keeping things in order. Next minute I was in the west hallway, making sure no one came in late. Nine o' two I was looking for Frankie, who kept track of who was tardy or not, to see if he had anything for me… but he wasn't there. At nine o' three, I checked Georga's office to see If she knew where Frankie went. Nine o' four, I wanted to make sure at least Jake was here so I went to the janitorial closet and didn't find a soul… after that I was tired o' walking so I went back to my office."

With this, Layton cracked a smile and patted a still stressed Flora on the head reassuringly.

"I see. With this information, we can figure out where the stranger was this whole time…"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 7)~**

**~Entrances and Exits~**

**50/50**

This link will give you a picture of the Loki Publication Building:

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor%20 Layton%20Questions/Loki. png

The blue squares on the wall are windows and the Black squares are doors. You know the stranger got in at nine, but he didn't get in through Jerry's window because it's impossible to open, and the stranger never stayed for a substantial amount of time in the front hallway, so he didn't get in via the windows in that hall. Also, Mr. Palmer keeps his door locked when he's not in it. Finally, he didn't stay in any room for longer than a minute. Knowing that, using the testimonials from the employees, figure out where the stranger was in the building each minute from 9:00, when he broke in, to 9:05, when he died.

This is a hard one, so I have two hints for you below: be careful! The more you use, the less Picarats you get!

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hint one:

There's no two ways about it: this one just requires a lot of scrolling and a lot of note-taking. It's not actually that hard, but It's fine if you want to just skip to the end and let the professor do all the leg work… however, you'll lose a lot of Picarats that way.

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hint two:

Alright, you know that the perpetrator has to get in through a window or a door, and he can only enter in a room or hall that's not occupied. This limits the places he can be during nine sharp. You also know his corpse currently resides in Jerries office, so its safe to say that's where he was at nine-o-five.

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How was it? Easy? Here's the answers:

9:00: Archives

9:01: Georgia's Office

9:02: West Hall

9:03: Staff Meeting Room

9:04: East Hall

9:05: Jerry's office

If you got this, then I congratulate you on your hard work and willingness to endure: fifty picarats paid in full! If you used one hint, that's fine, you still get 45. Two hints drops you to 40, and if you just plain got it wrong or gave up… 30 Picarats.

* * *

"If it isn't the one and only Mr. Layton. Why does trouble always seem to follow you around?"

In the middle of his brilliant deductions involving the final moments of the strangers life, The Professor hadn't noticed that Inspector Chelmey had walked in and had been waiting for him to finish for the past couple of moments.

"You!" Luke cried in an accusatory way. "Of course it had to be YOU Scotland yard sent over." The child was clearly still mistrustful of the Inspector… or at least didn't like him very much.

"Luke, calm down. Hello, Inspector." The puzzlemaster started, "I was just investigating a lead on our friend Edward McOpel when we came across this ghastly scene." Layton looked around to see everyone was staring at him, rather than the supposed authority of these topics, the inspector. "I don't suppose you have any idea the identity of this stranger?"

"Not a clue." The Inspector replied. "Even so, you aren't supposed to be the one asking questions here, professor. Leave the police work to me, you can just skedaddle off and play with your puzzles."

"Now, see here-" Luke was about to start a tangent when his mentor stopped him.

"That's fine." Layton smiled, gently letting go of Flora and standing up. "Ask us what you need from us and we'll be on our way."

The inspector did interrogate Luke, Layton, and Flora, and thankfully by the time he got to the girl she had gotten over her trauma and was able to answer clearly and decisively, which was good. Layton wanted to leave as soon as possible and the Inspector wanted him gone as soon as possible, so with their combined will they managed to wrap things up within the hour and the three were back in the Laytonmobile, driving back to the tea-scented home they all adored.

"Now what, Professor?" Luke asked, sitting in the front leaning on the window. "We don't have much in the way of leads… only the papers and letter."

"That's not quite true, Luke." Layton let out a nearly mischievous grin. "We have a single lead yet. And that lead is working on the case back at Loki Publication."

"You mean Inspector Chelmey? How so?"

"You two wouldn't know this, but back when I at Scotland yard I had the pleasure of having a brief interview with the man. I asked him about our Edward McOpel and he stated quite clearly that he had never heard of a criminal by that name. But as it so happens… I never once indicated in our conversation that it was a criminal I was after!"

"So that means," Flora started, taking the reigns from her mentor, "That he was lying about it?"

"Correct!" Layton praised the girl with that word alone, "So I'm guessing this might be a government affair we're dealing with."

"If that's the case, why are we doing anything?" Luke asked, still puzzled. "We're not anarchists or anything. We should let Parliament deal with it."

"I'd normally agree with you." Layton continued, the smile slowly fading from his lips, "But in this case, I fear this might be a case of corruption. If you remember, our mystery letter said some injustice was being done. As such, we have to continue and hope that there's something we can do."

"That's good," Flora stated, shifting in her seat in the back uncomfortably, "But I don't know what to do next. We can't exactly grill the inspector, can we?"

"No indeed." Layton said, stopping at an intersection to allow a family to cross the road, "But we can go back to Loki Publication tomorrow and ask the employee's about Chelmey's investigation. Perhaps we can retrieve some information from them."

The car started moving again and the three soon reached their destination.

"Luke," Layton looked down at the boy as they walked into the building, "Do I have anything going on tomorrow?"

Luke flipped open his handy schedule and checked tomorrows activities.

"You have a tutoring session in the morning, but that's it."

"Delightful." Layton patted the boy on the head and smiled at Flora. "With that, then, I'd like to retire to my room for a good read. You two relax as well, we have another day of investigating ahead of us."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 8)~**

**Luke and Flora's Day**

**15/15**

It's currently 1 in the evening, and Luke and Flora have bedtimes at 9:30 sharp. They both want to spend time at the park, doing some studies, and thinking up some puzzles. At Nine, both want to be ready for bed so they can hear one of the Professors famous bed-time stories.

However, both of them want to spend different amounts of time doing each activity.

-Flora wants to spend twice as long in the park as Luke

-Luke wants to spend four times as long studying as Flora.

-Luke wants to spend the exact same amount of time puzzling as he did playing at the park and studying combined. Flora wants to outdo him at this, so she wants to puzzle for that long plus another forty minutes

Knowing these facts, can you determine how long Luke and Flora will be spending on each activity? Don't overcomplicate things: this is much simpler than it seems.

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Get the right answer by now? Super!

Luke wants to spend a hour 20 minutes at the park, two hours and 40 minutes studying, and four hours doing puzzles.

Flora wants to spend two hours and 40 minutes at the park, 40 minutes studying, and a whooping four hours 40 minutes doing puzzles.

This may seem hard, but its really quite simple: they want to be in bed by the time the Professor's telling his bedtime story, so they have a grand total of eight hours to themselves. 8 x 60 = 480 minutes total to spend in the day.

From there, all you have to do is divide 480 in half to get Lukes combined time at the park and studying: subtract 40 from that total and you get Flora's combined time at the park and studying. Use ratio's to figure out the rest and you got it!

If you got this, congrats on the new Picarats. If you didn't, then you still get 8 so cheer up!

You know, looking at this, Luke and Flora sure do like to complicate their scheduling, don't they?


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Notes: Chapter five is here! How's the mystery-solving going? I know things may seem like a mess now, but in classic Layton style the real mysteries are just about to start! I hope you have you thinking cap back from the cleaners! =3

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**Chapter 5**

**~Odin and Loki~**

"I have to admit, Professor, there's something that still bothers me."

Layton looked up from the morning paper and gave a curious look at his assistant, who was sitting opposite of him, still in his adorable blue jammies. Luke was about to get started on eating the oatmeal carefully prepared for him by Flora when he remembered something had been nagging him all this while: besides, any time talking was time not eating, which in this case was ideal.

"Yes?"

"The special copy of the paper we got yesterday. We can assume a stranger brought it over to us, but why didn't we also get a copy of the normal paper?"

Layton smiled and folded the newspaper onto his lap: a gentleman always gave people their full attention when speaking to them.

"I'm guessing it was the stranger's intention for us to get both copies of the day's paper, but when the postal worker saw there was already a copy of the Times at our door he didn't see it necessary to give us another. You certainly couldn't blame him for that."

Flora, who had been working on trying to duplicate her one good tea recipe, finally gave up the ghost and sat down next to her adopted father: it seemed that it was a fluke that allowed her to prepare it so well the first time.

"It's the envelope that concerns me. If it really was our mystery person's intention for us to receive both copies of the paper, then what was the riddle about? Was it just a coincidence the riddle lead us to the execution notice? Does the riddle have a different purpose entirely? And why couldn't the writer be more specific about what the riddle was needed for? The penmanship was quite good, I can't see how this person could have been rushed while writing so elegantly."

He sighed.

"But I imagine we'll get more to work with after we ask the Loki employees about this mess."

Luke and Flora could both see a twinkle in his eye, the one that indicated that he was suspicious of something but refused to comment on it until he had more concrete facts.

"Well, that's enough out of me." Layton stood up and thanked Flora for a 'delicious' breakfast. "I have to get to that tutor session. When I return, we'll drive to Loki Publication and sort all this out."

"Have fun!" Flora cheerfully replied as she saw him to the door.

"Bye!" Luke waved as the Professor closed the door behind him: work as a professor was rewarding, but it could be more challenging than any puzzle at times.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 9)~**

**~The Professors Students~**

**10/10**

The professor has to tutor four students: 1, 2, 3, and 4. These four students have grades of B, C, D, and F in his class: however, you don't know which student has what grade. The four students, in an effort to get the best of their teacher, refuse to tell him who has what grade: rather, they each say the following

1) "I'm either failing or have a C."

2) "3 could have a C, or it could be 4"

3) "2 is doing one letter grade better than me."

4) "I'm doing one letter grade better than 1"

Can you figure out who has what letter grade?

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As you probably could tell, this is a variant on the puzzle Flora's Problem, and it could be a bit harder: but these are the answers below:

1) F

2) B

3) C

4) D

2 is the key to this answer. If you assume its 4 that has the C, then that means 1 has to have a D, which would contradict what it was he was saying, so that can't be the case. If you assume 3 has the C, however, then you know that 1, with one of his options removed, has to have an F. 4, with one letter grade above that, has the D, and then 2 is automatically B, although you could of figured that out by what 3 said.

If you figured this out, then you're probably better at these than I am: 10 brand new Picarats comin' atcha! If you didn't, then you're probably getting an F in the professors class and have to settle with 5.

Naturally, as clever as his students are, the Professor never had to solve this little problem: this is what grade books are for!

* * *

The tutoring session was enjoyable: for what it was worth Professor Layton liked his job as a teacher and liked spending time with his students. While the four he was tutoring were a bit… mischievous, ultimately they were willing to learn and they were able to walk away smarter at the end of the session. Satisfied with himself, the Professor drove back to his house to find Luke and Flora playing a board game.

"How delightfully quaint. It's been ages sense you've picked up that board game, Luke."

The two turned their heads to see him and smiles shot on their faces.

"I found it in the closet and dug it out." Flora commented as she moved her piece forward. "Luke remembered how to play so we've been trying it out while you were away."

"And…?" The professor pried, wanting to know how good it was. He had gotten the game to Luke as a gift two Christmases ago and was quite proud with his decision.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Professor, weren't we going to Loki Publication when you got back?"

"Right. We'd best get on that before they leave for lunch. Come now."

Both the children let out relieved sighs, happy they managed to dodge that bullet, and left to file into the Laytonmobile. The trip to the building was uneventful, and when they exited the car they didn't get the same stares as they had the last time: by now each was accustomed to the other and there was no sense of alienism between the roughians and the upper-class investigators. Upon entering the building, Bella looked up and grinned at them this time, indicating she was expecting their return.

"I knew ya'd be back, I did. A good detective never leaves a case unsolved, all that. I take it ya'd like to give me and the rest o' the crew a talkin' to?"

Layton greeted her with his smile and approached the desk.

"That would be nice."

She released a gruff laugh.

"Haw! Didn't I say yesterday the next puzzle'll be a harder one? Best hold onto that hat, Mr. Scholar."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 10)~**

**~Too many Professors!~ **

**15/15**

Here we have ourselves five Laytons, lovingly drawn by a three-year old. The standard Layton is standing in the corner and is unlabeled: the other four are different in some way.

http ://i301 .photobucket. com/albums/nn67 /Pocru/Professor%20 Layton%20Questions /ToomanyLaytons .jpg

Can you find the one with the MOST differences?

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Surprised? The answer is the A!

The question is the one with the _most_ differences, not the most obvious. A has the most differences, totaling seven, but a lot of them are subtle: Most notably, his hats rim is slightly smaller on both sides, his elbow doesn't have the unsightly bulge the others have, and his hat is barely noticeably thicker on the left side. C gets close, but A is still the champion.

This one may seem cheep, but it's fair game! If you got it right go ahead and give yourself 15. If not, you still get ten.

* * *

"Still as sharp as eva I see." Bella grins. "Well, what can I do ya for?"

"There are a few thing's I'd like to ask you about Chelmey's investigation, if you don't mind."

"Oh, not one bit." She leaned back and closed the puzzle book, clearly happy to have some excuse to stop exercising her mind.

"What did he ask you?" Layton sat down on a chair placed nearby and nodded towards Luke, signaling him to take out his notepad to write down her replies.

"Standard stuff I rekon. 'what were you doin' at the time of the murda', 'what were ya doin' before the murda', 'didja see anyone suspicous', all that hooie. I told him what I tol' you, I didn't see no one do nothing."

"I see… tell me, did you see Jerry walk in that morning?"

The grin left her face as she realized she would, in fact, have to work her brain.

"…now that you mention it, I didn't see the bloke at all yestaday. Most o' the employee's walk in throu' the back door, so I can't say I was very suspicious."

Layton nodded.

"Did the Inspector mention anything about a Mr. Edward McOpel?"

She shook her head.

"No… in fact, names didn't come up much at all: he didn' even ask if I knew the stranga or anythin' at all bout' Jerry. Heck, didn't even care bout' MY name."

Layton then stood up, allowed a smile to again reveal itself on his face, and then spoke to the woman.

"Thank you, ma'am. Would you mind if we spoke with the other employees?"

"Be my guest!"

He politely thanked her again and quickly located the next staff member: Jake, the Janitor, was right in the hallway smoking when he noticed the professor.

"Why, hello there… what can humble ol' Jake do for ya, Professha?"

"Good day to you, Jake… I was wondering if I could ask you some questions."

Luke licked the tip of his pencil and started to jot down all that was said.

"Go 'head."

"What did Inspector Chelmey ask you about during the interview?"

"Not much at all, en' fact."

This didn't surprise the professor at all, but he continued to dig.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The man was in a real rush, he was. Didn't take notes, didn't ask for names, jus' asked for my whereabouts durin' the time of the murder and wen' on his way."

"And did you see Jerry at all?"

Jake touched the tip of his hat as his eyes wandered, apparently in deep thought.

"No, I didn't. But he's alway's comin' to work early, long befor' I get here."

The most of the interviews that day went in a similar fashion: June, Frankie, and Georgia gave comparable accounts.

June was reading something when Layton walked in on her. "He asked me what I was doing at the time then left. He didn't even ask me for my name. I didn't see Jerry that day either."

Frankie was doodling. "I had a lot to tell him but he wasn't all ears, as it was. Just asked what I did then took off. I have to admit, I think the cops in my stories do a more thorough job than he did. As for Jerry, well… no, I didn't see him around, although Mr. Palmer said he was working."

Georgia was doing her nails while making a personal call before the professor interrupted. "My, the boorish man? He was such a bore, my friend, I was trying to be as helpful as I could and use my not insignificant brainpower to aid his investigation, but he wouldn't hear of it! He just dashed me aside… his pride probably preventing him from wanting to be outshone by a simple advertiser. And Jerry's always hiding in his office, sometimes I think he LIVES there. I never liked the man so I avoided him that day as I did any other."

After this interview, the trio decided it was time to visit Bob. Walking in on the man in the archives, Professor Layton was surprised to see the man was actually DOING something, which it seemed most people in Loki Publication tried to avoid at all costs.

"Pardon me," Layton asked the man, "But may I ask you a few questions about yesterdays investigation?"

"Oh, me? Why, I'd be honored to do you that service." He put his paper down next to him and without further prompting told of what happened. "It was faster than I thought I'd take: maybe he's such a good investigator, like the papers say, that he only needed to know what I was doin' before he was able to move along. Still, thou, it was a bit of a surprise."

Layton nodded. "Did you see Jerry at all that day?"

"I didn't, which is weird, it was. We're usually good pals. Anything else you need out of me?"

Layton cast a sideway's glace at the letter the man was writing.

"As a matter of fact, yes. If it's not too much to ask, could I see that letter?"

This astonished everyone in the room. Both Luke and Flora were confused over what his motive could be for such a request, as was Bob, but he nodded in agreement. He supposed that Layton had his reasons, and he was centrally more intuitive than the humble editor.

"Nothin' too personal. Go ahead, I guess."

His grubby fingers nabbed the yellow paper and gave it to Layton, who began to read.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 11)~**

**~Bob's Letter~**

**5/5**

Bob is writing a personal letter to his mother, who lives in America: here's what he has to say:

"_Hey Mum_

_How are you I am fine. I wanted to ask ya how paw was I know hes got a touch of flew rigt now. You americans and youre fortitude youd never see a brit with that kinda disease. Haw Im just kidding mom. Anyway things are pretty weird around here. We had a strager break into the building and scare of jerry or something strange. I dont know what to make of it but the great proffesor layton is on the case so im sure well figure it out._

_Love your son."_

Something about this letter should strike you as odd. What is it?

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Being the intelligent people you are, you should of noticed that the grammar and spelling in that letter is simply horrendous.

But isn't Bob supposed to be an editor?

If you realized this inconsistency, go ahead and take those five Picarats. If not, you get nothing… sorry.

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"Thank you very much, sir. I think that's all we need for now." He handed the letter back.

"Oh, think nothin' of it." He grinned. "Have yourself a nice day."

Layton tipped his hat in his direction and walked out with a smile on his face.

"I should of seen this before. Heh, 'Loki Publication'… it was all so obvious."

Luke and Flora looked at each other, than at him: it was only a matter of time before he spilled.

"That letter Bob was writing, while I'm sure it was full of sentiment, had terrible grammar. There's no way that man could be an editor."

"So what of it, Professor? He could just be a really bad editor!"

He winked at Luke and Flora to indicate he had solved something important.

"No one here is doing any work. I'm sure you've both noticed it: Flora even commented on it. Think about the companies name, you two: Loki publication?"

The children weren't as well versed in Norse Mythology as their mentor.

"Loki was the god of trickery and deceit. This companies name tells us what it really is: this publication is merely a front for something much more devious."

Flora nodded, scratching her chin in the way she supposed most detectives do. "That makes sense, seeing as they're still in business somehow. But what on earth could this company be hiding?"

Luke shrugged, but spoke up regardless. "I don't know, but I'd bet my hat on the fact that it has something to do with those papers, and that riddle we received."

"Right you are." Professor Layton patted the two on the head, in a way that would be condescending if anyone else had done it. "Not only that, but we've learned a little more about the Inspectors role in all this: he may not be a brilliant crime-fighter, but he is a persistent one and he genuinely cares about solving crimes. His apparent ambivalence for this whole ordeal indicates he knows something about this that he doesn't want to linger on."

"So what now, Professor?" Luke asked, tilting his head out of confusion.

"I think we should confront Mr. Palmer about this. He seems authentically worried over these recent events involving Jerry and the stranger. I think if we confront him about it, on the grounds that it'd help solve the case, he might be willing to at least point us in the right direction."

Knowing Mr. Palmer might be the only route to the truth, the trio advance on his office and whatever secrets might reside there.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors notes: How many Picarats do you have so far? If you're really good, you should have 170 on your belt right about now. If you're failing every one, you have just about 92. The amount you lose for a failed puzzle may not seem like much, but as you can see it really adds up!

You don't want a sad ending, do you? Work hard to get them Picarats!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**~The Key to Justice~**

Mr. Palmer was catching a nap when Layton and his friends burst in on him, throwing open the doors in an over-the-top fashion. The sudden sound of the doors jarred him awake, the bags under his eyes still as dark as ever as he stared at the three.

"Haven't ya ever heard of knockin? Give it a try next time you decide to barge in!"

The Professor walked up to his desk and looked down at the man: Palmer found himself quite intimidated by Layton's height and force.

"Mr. Palmer," Layton looked down at him, any sentiment out of his voice, "We know you're hiding something from us. Normally we would respect your secrets, but we fear that Jerry's disappearance and this stranger's death are linked to the truth behind Loki publication. Now, tell us, if you don't mind… what is this company really?"

Palmer was frozen in his seat as Layton spoke, like the professors words were as cold as a arctic breeze. However, once he stopped Palmer was able to calm himself and reply.

"Layton… I don't know what you're talking about. We're just a humble company devoted to indulging man's more cardinal entertainment needs. Don't go thinking that this is some sort of… MASK for something greater."

Palmer's left eyebrow was risen, and his emphasis on the word mask indicated he was expecting something. It didn't take a mind as great as Layton's to figure it out.

"Are you perhaps acquainted with a riddle?" Layton smiled, then recited on memory "Many use it, few own one. It is used to hide yet everyone can see you."

Palmer sighed, disappointed, and suddenly seemed to sober up significantly.

"I was rather hopeful it wouldn't be you who got in his mess, Mr. Layton. I have no doubts of your ability to solve this conundrum; I just question how wise it is to have such a well-known public figure in this sort of danger."

"Whatever could you mean?" The Professor sat down on a guest chair, while Luke and Flora were forced to stand.

"I didn't send you that letter, Mr. Layton, I entrusted it to another one of my associates. I was hoping, at first, to have Inspector Chelmey do what I'm about to ask of you, but he refused. It was this that made him blow through the investigation with the stranger."

"Please, elaborate." Layton was thankful to, for once, have this much information so readily available.

"I'd like to very much. But I'm afraid elaboration on what little I know is what I need you for. This company isn't a publication company, no… it's a half-way house, as it were."

Professor Layton leaned back and closed his eyes, slightly disappointed in the lack of knowledge on the other man's part but mostly to listen to what it was he was saying with more focus.

"The government has a fortress, Mr. Layton, a mysterious prison in a unknown location. I don't know how it came to be, who runs it, or even who goes there: I do know, however, that the people that are sent there are not criminals. This place was birthed to help those few that manage to escape re-establish their lives and eventually leave to mainland Europe."

"I take it Jerry was one such runaway?"

"Yes. But everyone else here isn't: they're simply here to help create the illusion of a business."

"How did you hear of this strange jail?"

"Not directly. That associate I told you of had a brother who apparently went to the place, and he was the one who set up a series of halfway houses, this one included. I've fostered a few former inmates and they all tell the same stories."

"Which are…?" Layton was now leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, listening intently.

"That's the thing. They're all in really bad shape when they come in: bruises, cuts… but they couldn't remember a thing to save their souls."

"If that's the case," Layton interrupted, "How do you even know there is a prison?"

"That's exactly it, Mr. Layton. I want you to find out. For all I know, I could be doing a great justice or I could be unwittingly aiding some other cause I don't believe in. I only started this because I trusted my friend, but as time goes on and more and more of these mystery people pile up, I've grown suspicious. After all, if so many people manage to escape, it can't be that terrible a place, can it?"

The Professor was silent for a great deal of time, everyone around him shrouded In silence to hear his next move: would he take this job? Luke and Flora weren't sure: he had a tenancy to only take cases he thought was interesting or important, and this could easily fall under the mundane under the correct circumstances. Mr. Palmer was openly nervous, afraid of being rejected a second time. After an eternity of silence, he finally spoke again.

"Who are these friends of yours, Mr. Palmer?"

He smiled, overjoyed at this sign of cooperation.

"They go by the code name of Lanks and Icabob. Lanks is the one who sent you the letter, and Icabob is the one who got me into this mess. I don't know where Lanks lives, but I can give you the address for Icabob."

Layton nodded, all business now.

"Mr. Palmer, I don't mean to give you the wrong impression: I have not yet decided if I'm going to take this case. There is still the matter of the newspaper, the stranger, and Jerry."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't lie to you about the newspaper, Mr. Layton. I don't know how our publication's name wound up in that puzzle you pointed out. I also don't know who that stranger was, although I have an inking the Inspector knows. Jerry, I can only assume, ran off when the stranger showed up."

The Professor tipped his hat then stood up.

"Thank you, Mr. Palmer. I'll carefully consider the situation and send you a post when I've decided. Until then, good day."

He turned around and left the premise, Luke and Flora following behind. When they were out of the building, Luke finally spoke, breaking the unbearable silence that plagued them all through their march out of the building.

"What do you think, Professor?"

The man turned around and spoke to the two, traces of concern in his voice.

"Palmer, I fear, is still holding something out on us. Remember how we knew the stranger couldn't have entered through Jerry's window because it doesn't open?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, that also means that Jerry couldn't have used the window to escape. The other employee's also claimed that they never saw him all day, not even leaving, so he couldn't of used any of the other windows or doors."

Flora picked up on the implication.

"So… you're saying that Mr. Palmer was lying about seeing Jerry come in that day?"

Layton nodded.

"Right. I don't see how no one could of seen him except Palmer, and yet he managed to escape the building somehow. It'd make more sense if he simply wasn't there to begin with. But we still have many questions: what did the stranger want? How did he die? And why did Mr. Palmer have to lie about Jerry?"

"Does this mean you're taking the case, Professor?"

"Yes, but I'd like to do my investigation without Mr. Palmer's knowledge. Something about that man feels off…"

"And we can't doubt your intuition, can we?"

"Well, It's yet to lead be astray. Come now: let's go to Chelmey and see what he can tell us."

All three hopped into the Laytonmobile and started off. As they started to drive, The Professor started to speak again, demanding the attention of the kids.

"There are still a few thing's we don't know. For one, we know Loki Publication is a front, but yet I heard of the company by confiscating it's work. There has to be another Loki Publication, which may or may not be a part of this."

Luke yawned a little and rubbed his eyes, which interrupted his mentor.

"Sorry about that, Professor." Luke blushed, "I guess I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Quite all right, Luke. In any case, we also don't know anything about that Newspaper: I don't see why Mr. Palmer would have any reason to lie about that yet admit to the letter. Lank's must of wanted to give us that newspaper without Mr. Palmer's knowledge… or it could be possible that a third party was involved somehow. After all, there was now way we could of possibly linked Loki Publication with the letter alone…"

It was Layton this time who yawned.

"I suppose it is a bit contagious, isn't it?" He brushed it off with a smile, taking note how Flora was yawning too.

His vision started to blur, causing him to snap to attention.

"This is quite the drowsy spell… I don't think I should be driving like this… Luke, quickly, open the windows."

But Luke was already asleep, causing the professor to mumble to himself in aggravation.

"Curses. Flora, are you…?"

By now he managed to pull his car over to the side of the road and look back at Flora, only to see she, too, had dozed off. Layton reached over to open his window, but found it was jammed.

"Wha-?"

Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a fine blue mist coming out of the dashboard.

"B-blast…"

His eyes started to flutter open at the shaking of Luke.

"Professa! Wake up!"

He slowly pulled his head from the steering wheel and looked around: they were still in the car, but the car wasn't anywhere near the road: rather, it was in an abandoned warehouse, dark and damp and littered with rusted nails and broken class. Luke was kneeling next to his mentor, shaking him for what must have been at least five minutes.

"W-whats going on? Where are we? Flora, is she all right?""

"I don't know, Professa, but it's not the side of the road anymore. Flora's still asleep… Do you think Palmer did this?"

"N-no, he couldn't of." He shook his head. "No one could break into my car and install such a thing…"

"That's where you're wrong, LAYTON!"

A familiar voice echoed through the empty warehouse, and both Luke and Layton turned to look where it was coming from. Luke cringed.

"Oh, Not again!"

"I'm afraid so, you little runt!" And suddenly the infamous Don Paolo stepped out of the darkness into the light cast by the sun through the dust-stained windows.

"What do you want, you old geezer?" Luke yelled out to the scientist, who sneered.

"Such an impudent child you have following you, Professor! I'll shut that trap of his for good this time, however!" He let out a low, evil chuckle at the thought.

"What do you want, Don Paolo?" Layton repeated Luke's call.

"I want revenge, Layton! For all the trouble you've caused me! I also happen to know you're after someone by the name of Edward McOpel… well, you're not getting at that Golden Goose before _me_! Not this time!"

"Whatever do you want HIM for?" Luke blurt out.

"None of your business, BRAT! Now, I have to go fetch my weapon, so you'd best make your peace while I'm away! Don't even think about escaping… you're locked in that car and I've stalled the ignition!"

With that, he nearly skipped off to fetch this so-called weapon. The instant he turned his back, however, the Professor didn't hesitate to kick the windshield, causing it to shatter under the force of the blow. Luke was stunned.

"P-Professor! Your car!"

"Lives are more important than automobiles, Luke. Besides, I can always get a new window. Right now, I need to fix the ignition."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 12)~**

**~The Laytonmobiles Lament~**

**40/40**

Layton put on a strong face for Luke, but he's actually heartbroken over the loss of his precious car's window. However, he cannot let that distract him, and he has to fix the engine if he wants to escape. Here's the engines ignition:

http:/ /i301 .photobucket. com/albums /nn67/Pocru /Professor%20Layton %20Questions/LaytonmobilesLamentQUESTION. png

I know it looks nothing like a real cars ignition, but just work with it, K? Now, this is complicated, so listen up: if an electric charge is put onto any one of those colored squares you see, that charge will travel through the colored squares and eventually loop back to the starting square you charged. Now, how the electricity moves depends on what color square its on.

If its red, it goes up 2 squares.

If its blue, it goes up two squares.

If its yellow, it goes down two squares.

If its black it goes right 2 squares.

And if its green it goes left, right, up and down 1 square.

A charge goes immediately to its destined square, and does not charge any colored squares between its current square and its destination: for example, if it goes left 2 to a yellow block, and there's a green block between your current block and the yellow block, that green block will NOT be charged. From there, the electric charge would go down two squares, where it'd charge another colored clock, such as a black. A charge also cannot go off the grid.

Now, Don Paolo has removed one colored square from the original pattern, breaking the infinite loop of electric flow. Can you determine what colored square should go where? This is a tricky one so I've given you some hints: but the more you use, the less Picarats you get at the end!

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Hint 1:

I lied about it being tricky: it's more intimidating then it is tricky. Think calmly and treat this like your average 10 Picarat puzzle: how would you solve this? Also, take note how it never says all of the colored squares HAVE to be used: There may be a few squares on the map that never get a charge.

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Hint 2:

The Electricity follows an easily predictable pattern: it throws you off when the charge goes off in two directions, but ultimately it still has to wind up at the same place. The unused blocks add a level of confusion, but how can you work around that?

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Hint 3:

Finding the spot you need to color is simple: Just pick a random block and follow the charge. No matter what direction you go, you'll wind up at the spot that breaks the link. From there, it's as simple as figuring out what color would make the most sense. That's not a perfect method, however, because of the unused blocks: starting at those points could cause you to veer off course. So remember what it said at hint two? The electric charge should at some point branch off into two paths. So a safe place to start would be a green square that has two other blocks adjacent to it: you know that the electric path would have to branch there so its defiantly not one of the unused blocks.

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Easier than it looked, right? The answer is below:

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor% 20Layton%20Answers/Layton MobilesLamentANSWER. Png

you could of got a "cheating" answer by using the unused squares: sense technically if you were to put a black square two spaces away from one of the unused red squares, you would technically create the required loop. If this was the answer you got, well, I congratulate you on your creative thinking but scold you for laziness. You'll still get full Picarats, however.

If you solved this in one go, I'm happy for you! 40 picarats! One hint gives you 37. Two will still raise your total by 34. Three will grant you 30 Picarats. If you didn't solve it at all, you can still have 28… just because I'm in a good mood.

Now, you're almost out of here! Hurry before Don Paolo comes back!

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**~(Puzzle 13)~**

**~Layton's Escape~**

**20/20**

As you can see in the below image, the ground is covered with many rusty nails lots of broken glass, something that is detrimental to the trio's escape. Luckily for them, however, there are many clear paths available to help them escape, and all of them will lead to freedom: however, which one makes the most SENSE?

http ://i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67 /Pocru/Professor%20Layton %20Questions/LaytonsEscape QUESTION. png

Keep in mind the one that makes the most SENSE may not be the most direct route.

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Kind of a trick question, eh? I hope you picked up on those little hints! Here's the answer:

http . com/albums/nn67/Pocru /Professor%20Layton%20Answers/Laytons EscapeANSWER .png

This could be categorized as another cheap question, but all's fair in love and puzzles!

If you got this right, 20 Picarats. If you got it wrong you get a still-good 14.

Now ignore this puzzle and just book it!

* * *

Layton shifted into gear and the tires started to screech, and trio were finally on their way to freedom. As the trusty Laytonmobile reached the large door, Luke quickly leapt out and opened it, allowing the light of the sun to shine unfiltered on their skin. Luke scrambled back in and Layton quickly sped into the streets between the many warehouses by the river, not willing to stay behind and chance seeing the mad scientists weapon.

However, the weapon would find him regardless. No sooner did they turn a corner did a large, thundering crash resonate through the empty dock yard: it must have been the weapon. The sound startled Luke and his Mentor, and it awoke Flora, who looked around with half-lit eyes in confusion.

"What's going on?" She mumbled, but was quickly hushed by a panicked Luke.

Suddenly, something turned the corner after them: a huge, metallic steamroller, at least three times the size of the Laytonmobile. Spikes and other dastardly impaling and tearing instruments were imbedded into the roller of this deadly vehicle, which it was so heavy and sharp the machine tore through the streets where it rolled, sending chunks of stone and trash flying wherever it went. Sitting in the cockpit of this lethal car was Don Paolo, glaring down the road at them.

"BLAST YOU, LAYTON! I'LL CRUSH YOU!"

Layton shifted into fourth gear and put the petal to the metal.

They Laytonmobile was going as fast as it could, but it was no match for the hate-filled craftsmanship of Don Paolo's weapon. It was only by the tiny car's maneuverability that it managed to elude the metallic monster for as long as it did, but soon the tearing steamroller was just yards from the tail of the Professors automobile.

Flora was looking out the back window with terror in her eyes, along with tears.

"Professor! He's going to get us! What are we going to do?"

"Stay calm, Flora." Layton clinched his teeth. "I'll protect you."

But how could he? He took another daredevil turn, barely evading the steamroller once again, the sharp-edged roller nicking the back of his car as he started into the next street. They had lost him, but… only for a matter of moments. Luke cringed, deep in thought despite his maddening fear.

"Drat! We can't go into the London streets with that madman on our tail, but we can't stay in his maze of Warehouses forever! How are we going to stop it?"

Layton's equivalent of spider-senses tingled, and he quickly made a turn at the next corner, barely avoiding Don Paolo as his car smashed through an entire warehouse in an effort to destroy his arch rival.

"LAYTON!" The man called with rage embedded into his voice, "IF I CANT CRUSH YOU, I'LL DROWN YOU IN THE THAMES!"

Two robotic arms shot out from the sides of the steamroller, with two saws attached to the ends: The two arms lay straight out, sandwiching Layton's car and preventing it from turning without running right into the fatal spinning wheels. Ahead of them was the Thames, and behind them was the Steamroller, eager to tear them apart and slowly gaining on them.

"Professor!" Luke cried out, terrified for his life. But Professor Layton couldn't hear him: he was devoting every ounce of his attention to figure out how to save the children.

His own safety wasn't his priority.

The shimmering banks of the water was getting closer and closer, as was the steamroller: you could hear the sound of the metal scraping against the cobblestone below them. Don Paolo was grinning madly, sure that this time he had won: and at that moment the Professor might of even agreed. That is, until a daring plan entered his mind, one he wasn't sure he could pull off…

But what choice did he have? With the front window broken, if they fell into the Thames they would drown, but if he stopped or turned they'd be killed in a much more brutal fashion. This was his only hope.

"Get to the right side of the car! Hurry!" Layton called to his two assistants, and they did so without question: hearing his voice so commanding gave them a sliver of hope in this bleak time.

Layton shifted quickly into reverse, causing the car to start veering backwards: at the same time he turned the wheel left as fast as he could. The car backed right, slipping just between the spinning blade beside them and the steamroller behind them. The side of the car hugged a warehouse as it started to skid, the left side of the car getting completely torn off by the wide steamroller.

Good thing the Laytonmobile was British-made.

A wide eyed Don watched the car slip between his attack, as he himself was unable to prevent the steamroller from crashing into the water. As he fell, he yelled out in angry defiance.

"I'LL GET YOU YET, YOU SWINE!"

But soon his voice was drowned out by the huge splash created by the vehicle as it fell into the river. The three sat, petrified, inside the demolished car: the tears were still on the brink of the children's eyes.

"We're… alive." Luke finally whimpered.

Layton, uncharacteristically, found himself releasing a small chuckle.

"Yes, Luke… we're alive."

With the realization that they had barely escaped a grim fate, he found his small chuckle turned into a boisterous, victorious laugh, a laugh celebrating the joy of living and that the two people he cared most for in this world were okay. Soon enough, however, he settled down and sighed, a smile still on his face.

"Let's go home."

And without looking back at the Laytonmobile, he helped his two children out of the wreckage and they started their long walk back home.


	7. Chapter 7

Authors Note: hello, my fellow puzzlers! How's the story going so far? I know you're all depressed over the loss of your favorite character, but please, dry your tears. Perhaps it might make a surprise re-appearance at the grand finale. But still, enough foreshadowing: enjoy the Professors continued quest for the betterment of mankind!

And thanks for all the reviews so far! Those keep me going!

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**Chapter 7**

**~The Next Step~**

The serine deep blue that was present the day before was much thinner today: a paler sky was shining over them, with a few thin clouds dominating the air. But still, it was a beautiful day by its own virtue, and the Professor found himself releasing a content sigh as he was seated on a bench on the side of the road, the two children beside him contently eating slices of watermelon he had purchased for them a few moments ago: considering what they had just been through and how far they had yet to walk just to get to a part of town where they could hail a taxi, watermelon seemed like a barely adequate present but the children were satisfied with it regardless. Between the smacking of lips and slurping of liquids, Luke managed to spit out.

"So, Professor… what now?"

He sighed and smiled a little wider.

"Well, we learned that if Don Paolo is involved, there must be some vast amount of wealth to be had through the discovery of the location of Mr. McOpel. We also know there must be something we're missing. If Don Paolo was able to find out about this affair he had to learn about it from somewhere, some other source who probably didn't want his involvement. We need to find that source."

"He could of just followed you around and picked up something himself." Flora suggested between bites. She was eating much less enthusiastically than Luke.

"That's impossible." Layton chuckled. "I wouldn't miss something he could notice. No, he must know something… and unfortunately we cannot interrogate the man, he's busy being at the bottom of the Thames."

Luke stopped eating when his mentor said that and looked up, a few stray seeds still stuck to his pink-stained face.

"Do you think Don Paolo is dead, Professor?"

"No, the man's too stubborn and too smart. He almost assuredly planned for something of this capacity. But, regardless, with him out of the way, I think we could use this opportunity… we should visit the inspector next, but not to ask him about what it is he knows."

"Then for what?"

"Don Paolo is a criminal, Luke. The Inspector would have to have some information on at least one of his hideouts."

"Ah… that'll be scary…" Luke shivered at the thought of going anywhere close to where Don Paolo may have resided for any period of time, but shook off the fear and went back to finishing off whatever slivers of watermelon were left. He had finished much quicker than Flora had, who was still eating it with dainty bites.

"I know it will be, but we're in desperate need of leads." Layton sighed as he stared at his feet… after two miles of walking on the bumpy cobblestone of the docking lower class district, his feet were starting to get sore. "If you recall, our last plan was to talk to the Inspector about the subject, which would of undoubtedly resulted in us walking away empty handed. This new plan is better than that, without question."

"Couldn't we just ask for one of Mr. Palmer's associates location? He said he knew at least one of their addresses."

"I'd like to keep that under my hat as a last resort. I fear that direct association with those kind of folk would result in some sort of danger, or that our confronting them would result in some sort of manipulation."

"What do you mean by that?" Flora asked.

"Well, Mr. Palmer wanted someone with good detective skills and some degree of power over the police for the investigation. I know this because he could of hired any number of private investigators for this case, yet he risked asking me and the Inspector about it instead. If he wants someone with this kind of power, this could indicate he wants to use us somehow for some other purpose."

"I see… not very trusting of him, are you?" Luke continued, dangling his legs as he patiently waited for Flora.

"As it stands, no."

They were quiet after that, and when Flora finally took her last bite, they got on their weary feet and continued their march: after what must have been another hour, they finally caught sight of a Taxi and hailed it.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 14)~**

**~Taxi! Taxi!~**

**5/5**

"What can I do you for, sir?"

"We'd like a ride to Scotland Yard, please."

"How much have you got?"

"I have twenty pounds."

"Well, lucky for you, good sir, we are having a sale. Normally, a ride that far would cost you half of what you have now. But with this sale going on you only have to pay half of that price, plus one pound for every mile."

Layton happens to know that the old price was 2 pounds every mile. Is this a sale, or a con?

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This was exceptionally easy if you have a pen or paper, or if you have decent mental math skills.

Its neither a con or a sale: it's exactly the same. The initial cost was 10 pounds, so that must mean that Scotland yard is five miles away. You pay five up front and 1 pound every mile means you pay exactly the same: 10 pounds.

This was undoubtedly the easiest puzzle In the story so far, so its practically five free points. If you got this wrong, you should probably LOSE five points, but instead of being a jerk you won't get anything.

* * *

Annoyed with the roundabout way of saying "it'll cost the exact same as always", Layton handed over half of his Pounds and they all happily boarded the taxi. They were mostly silent, each one thinking things over, and were happy to find it took less than ten minutes for them to reach the Yard with this new method of transportation.

At the gate, to their surprise, they found the one and only Barton was standing before it, still as rigidly posed as he'd ever been. Layton greeted the man with a smile.

"Why, if it isn't Barton. How's it been?"

The man didn't move much while replying.

"Not bad, Layton Sir! I take it you're here to see the inspector!"

The Professor tipped his hat. "As sharp as ever I see."

"It's not be who thought you'd be coming, sir, it was the inspector himself! He said if you wanted to get in, you'd have to solve a riddle."

Layton's smile faded.

"That's quite peculiar… well, go ahead and tell it to me."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 15)~**

**~Chelmey's Riddle~**

**10/10**

"I fly with no wings, no feathers and no beak"

"My size is quite large but my cellar quite meek"

"I soar through the sky as plain as can be"

"But the person riding you can hardly see"

"What am I?'

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I wouldn't call this easier or harder than the first riddle, but it rhymes so that's cool.

The answer? A Blimp! You could of also gotten a hot air balloon, I suppose.

Ten out of ten for getting that. If you got it wrong you can still have five.

Now, what do you suppose Chelmey's up to?

* * *

"Very good sir!" Barton said and stepped aside. "I think the Inspector will talk to you now."

"That was a pretty easy puzzle…" Luke commented as they walked past the man in blue, "I don't suppose the inspectors very good at puzzles, is he?"

Flora smirked. "I suppose he's as good at making puzzles as he is at being a detective."

"Now, Flora, that was rather uncalled for. His track record hasn't been perfect, but you should still treat him with respect: the streets are safer because of his hard work."

Flora dropped her head, embarrassed.

"Yes, professor…"

After the scolding, they reached the door to the man's office and opened it, seeing an expectant Inspector sitting at his desk.

"Snooping around at my case I see. I heard from the Loki Employee's that you'd been digging there."

"Really, now?" Layton sat down, as did his assistants, as there were three chairs already placed before the desk, probably out of anticipation for their arrival. "Was it Mr. Palmer by chance who informed you of this?"

"That's right." Suddenly, Chelmey took a deep breath and started to speak in a somewhat… artificial matter, not using words that came naturally… like he had memorized this and was reciting it on memory. "Folsense on our lists still? FOOLS! I can't allow neither teachers, tutors, and Luke knowing hateful, enduring, righteous evils!"

He was quite for a few moments, allowing the Professor to sort out the mismatched words and phrases.

"NOW GET OUT!"

And soon all three of them were outside, repelled away by some mysterious force. Outside, Luke commented.

"That was… atypical."

"It was indeed."

"I take it you just talked with the inspector, Professor?" Barton suddenly appeared behind them, his voice surprising them to the point where Luke and Flora leapt up. Layton was no exception to the shock and took a few moments to calm himself before turning and addressing the Bobby.

"Yes, we did."

"You'll have to excuse him if he seemed a bit off, but sometimes he has a hard time saying what he's thinking, you know? It's a common problem. Maybe if you think over what it is he said you'll understand."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 16)~**

**~Hidden Message 2~**

**20/20**

"Folsense on our lists still? FOOLS! I can't allow neither teachers, tutors, and Luke knowing hateful, enduring, righteous evils!"

Chelmey was trying to tell the Professor something: what is it? Look carefully: He might of even included a hint for you!

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"I cant talk here"

Did you get it? It was simple: looking at the first letter of each word would of provided you with this little message: his hint was also similarly disguised. **F**olsense **o**n **o**ur **l**ist **s**till? **Fools!**

If you got this you get all 20 Picarats, this was easier than the first hidden message. If you didn't, you get 14.

* * *

"On a separate note entirely, Professor, do you like the Symphony? I know I do. In fact, there's a club not far from here. It's rather exclusive, but members get free tickets to the Symphony every month. Initiation is noon tomorrow, I think I'd be in you're best interest to at least attempt to gain membership."

Layton nodded knowingly with a smile on his face.

"I'll be sure to do that, Barton. Thank you."

"Nothing at all, sir!" And with that he turned and disappeared into Scotland yard.

"What was that, professor?" Luke asked, confused. Flora had a similar expression on her face.

"It seems," Layton looked down at him, "we have a unexpected ally in this case. Let's go home, children… I'd actually quite like to get my hands on some tea."

All that repressing his sadness over his car's destruction was starting to catch up with him, and he'd much like to try to release his sorrow in his own way, something best done with a cup of tea in hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Authors Notes: This chapter is gonna be a good one for mystery-solving, but don't kid yourself: the chunks of information you get here hardly compose the biggest of the mysteries. Take these and pay close attention! Thanks!

* * *

Chapter 8

**~The Black Dogs~**

Noontime was all of a half hour away, and everyone was a bit on edge. Layton was in his usual garbs, but to increase their prestige Luke and Flora had gotten in slightly more sophisticated clothing, Luke wearing a miniature tuxedo with a blue bow-tie, while Flora wore a dress similar to what she usually wore only paler and slightly fluffier. It felt odd to be dressed in such a way in the morning, but they were sure they wanted to blend in with this higher-class crowd, and they'd like to at least give the impression they were here to impress them.

Naturally, the real reason was because they were under the impression they'd be meeting with Chelmey there.

"Now, Luke and Flora, be sure to be as gentlemanly and ladylike as you can. I'm fairly certain my reputation alone won't get us through the door."

"I'll do my best!" Luke leapt up and gave a thumbs up.

"I'll act just as my mother raised me to behave." Flora curtsied, for no other reason than to show she could.

"Very good. Now, let's get going, we want to be fashionably early."

They left the building and hailed a taxi, and thankfully a different driver picked them up. Layton was never given the exact address of the building, but he knew very well what society it was Barton was referring to: the Black Dog club, so named due to its founders fondness for his pet, a rather sizeable black dog. It was a society that was fairly recent, only truly existing so the rich could have another playground to flaunt in front of the less fortunate… which was why Layton never did attempt to join, despite the fact he was fond of the idea of free tickets to all the latest symphonies.

Upon reaching the outside of the building they paid the taxi and left for the building… but when they reached the door they were stopped by the doorman.

"Payment, please."

Layton looked at the man, surprised.

"Whatever do you mean?"

The doorman extended his hand.

"Payment. You are here for the initiation are you not?"

"Right."

"Well, if you want to get in, you must hand them over."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 17)~**

**~Entrance Fee~**

** 20/20 **

Being the prestigious club it is, the Black Dog's don't allow just anyone inside. You have to pay a fee of stars, circles, triangles, and squares.

-The individual values of each shape is unknown

-The fee requires a number of shapes that equal 20 in value

-It only accepts exact change.

You happen to know four people passed before you, and paid the following values:

Four stars and four circles

Four squares and two stars

Two stars, three squares, a circle and a triangle

Four stars, a square, and a circle.

Knowing this, can you determine how much each shape is worth?

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A little more tricky than what you're used to in this story, perhaps?

The circle is worth one, the triangle is worth two, the square is worth three and the star is worth four.

This requires a little thinking to figure out: four squares and two stars equals the same as two stars, three squares and one of both triangle and circle: so one square is the equivalent of a circle and a triangle. Four stars and four dots is the same as four stars and a square and a dot, so that means that a square equals three dots: then you know a triangle is worth two dots, and using substitution you can figure out that a star is worth four.

If you got this you get all 20 Picarats. If you're wrong, you get 15 this time. Happy day!

* * *

"Enjoy yourself, my good sir… but I'm afraid the boy will have to stay outside."

"WHAT?" Luke cried out, indignant at this apparent discrimination.

"Please, restrain him." The doorman wiped a small amount of saliva that flew out from Luke's mouth from his cheek. "This is a grown-up club, little boy, we're not babysitters."

He was growling and gritting his teeth, and Layton sighed.

"I'm sorry, Luke, Flora, you'll have to wait outside."

The man grinned.

"But sir… we never said your daughter couldn't come inside…"

Layton's eye's widened: suddenly, he was paralyzed, something clicking in his mind. He closed his eyes and calmed himself, however, and turned to Luke quckly.

"…Luke, take Flora home. Now. Don't let her leave your sights" Luke, not sure how to take that sudden order, quickly and silently did what he was told. "And make sure you're not being followed!" He called out to them as they started to walk off. Flora was confused, just as Luke was, and couldn't help but feel worried at this sudden change in attitude.

"What was that about sir? I can assure you we weren't planning anything devilish. She simply looked of higher caliber-"

"I'm sure your intentions were pure," Layton interrupted, "But it's not your intentions I question. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He slid past the doorman and entered the rather large and well-lit lobby: it was a testament to their extraordinarily unnecessary wealth. Every sort of extravagance that could be purchased was clearly visible: magnificent works of art hung from nearly every wall, gold leaf was coating any surface that it possibly could, jade and ivory statues were embedded into the ground, and pearls hung from the pure gold chandelier. Yet, it didn't have the air of true nobility, rather, it had a stench of pompousness that made it hard for the Professor to relax.

Everyone in the lobby seemed to be hopeful initiates, dressed in the finest of clothing and adorned with lavish jewelry, the Professor certainly stuck out in the crowd. He weaved his way through the crowded mass (of which he was sure the inspector was somewhere inside) and seated himself on one of the many leather seats that were lining the walls.

…it appeared every single person in the room was male. The private invitation for Flora was even more troubling. They couldn't possibly…

"Good, you're as clever as you've ever been, I see."

A man approached Layton that was, for all practical purposes, a stranger. But seeing the man the Professor cracked a smile.

"Why, if I didn't know better I'd swear you were a complete stranger, Inspector Chelmey. You have quite the talent for disguising yourself."

"Comes with the work." The Inspector sat down next to his colleague and didn't waste any time. "I'm sure you know already I was approached by Mr. Palmer about this issue, this prison, and I turned him down. There's a good enough reason for that."

"I'd love to hear it. But I have to admit at the moment I'm more curious if the mystery jail even exists."

"It does. It's got quite a bit of history behind it as well."

"Do tell."

"The Prison in question was first the brainchild of Dr. Teresa Harrison. Being a woman at the time, her idea's weren't taken seriously, at first… until the lovely queen Victoria took the throne."

"My… this goes quite a ways back."

"…yes. In any case, with her in power, all of Dr. Teresa's ambitions were suddenly possible. Teresa was a fiercely patriotic woman, and her family had a bad history with crime, so the first idea she ever implemented was… a prison in the sky."

"In the sky?!?" Layton was amazed. "How did she manage that?"

"That's the thing, Mr. Layton. She never did. She started the grand undertaking, but she unfortunately died before its completion. With her gone, the brain behind the idea was also gone as well and they couldn't finish. The project and the site was abandoned."

The Professor leaned back and closed his eyes, absorbing all this information.

"So, we know the origins. But if it was never completed, why all these prisoners? And what of Jerry and the stranger?"

"This is what I know: a few months back I was called in for a most unusual assignment. There had been a sudden string of kidnappings, people just vanishing out of nowhere, and there were no hints to be found at all. These were average people, Mr. Layton. No different from you or me. Bakers, teachers, criminals, even members of my force… What was really unusual was that most of them showed up again after a few weeks, shivering and wounded in the back-alleys. My investigation was slow… and I had no leads… until recently."

"Please, continue."

"Something tragic happened, started last week." He closed his eyes and sighed. "People who had vanished and who had been found started to die. One after the other. The way they died varied from man to man, woman to woman, but… it was all very orderly and extremely disheartening."

He sighed again and leaned forward.

"It was around this time that Mr. Palmer asked for my help. Well, at first I didn't see any connection until he mentioned who it was he was currently housing. The people who were disappearing were captives in this strange prison, it seemed… naturally, my first concern was that Jerry would be in danger. I told Mr. Palmer I would consider his offer… but I ultimately refused."

"Now, why would you do such a thing?" Layton asked. "a officer as devoted as you must have found the idea promising."

"I did, at first. But I got a similar invitation as you, Mr. Layton… as well as a rather unusual copy of the paper."

Layton opened his eyes. "Oh?"

"It was similar to the one you got, I imagine, with a execution notice? Well, when I saw the name Edward McOpel I immediately added the pieces together."

Layton smiled.

"Jerry is really Edward McOpel?"

"Right you are." The investigator sighed. "I knew you'd figure that out by now."

"Only a few minutes ago. Mind if I fill in the gaps for you so far?"

"I always did suspect you loved to hear yourself talk."

Layton smiled. "Well, I knew already that people had apparently been taken and had been escaping this prison for quite some time, by Mr. Palmer's testimony. The fact you said people were disappearing and reappearing correlated with that. I knew Jerry was an old inmate at this Sky Prison, and that the newspaper lead me to his location, even though there was no Edward McOpel at Loki Publication… only a Jerry, who had gone missing and was supposed to be hiding. I figured out Jerry was an alibi from that. When you told me about the mysterious deaths, well… it became all so obvious. The stranger was an assassin… and the newspaper is the means the employer of this assassin reaches his hitman, telling him who to strike and where..."

Chelmey nodded.

"Right you are, Mr. Layton. But you forgot one thing…"

"That is…?"

"Mr. Palmer is in league with the assassins, obviously!"

Layton leaned back, not seeing the connection himself.

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"It's obvious, as you so stated. Loki Publication is a publication company but you never see it do anything. Well, it prints out the fake newspapers and distributes it to the assassins… luring in escapee's with the promise of a home and a route of escape. From there, it's an easy kill…"

* * *

**~(Time to play detective!)~**

**10/10**

What's wrong with Chelmey's hypothesis? Don't assume anything you don't know for sure.

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As the brilliant people you are, the problem with this idea is obvious, I'm sure.

If they were being kept at Loki Publication, why would the newspaper need to give a location?

This is an all-or-nothing event. It's more like a bonus round so don't fret over it!

* * *

"…If you were a Bobby, you'd get such a scolding for that."

"Don't get angry because your wrong, Inspector. It's in bad taste."

"Hmph. Well, in that case, what do you think? How else would the employer know where the people are hiding? I'm sure you got the same vibe from Palmer as I did… he's a fishy fellow, he is."

"I did," Layton confessed, "But I'm not about to jump to conclusions on that basis alone. So, if I may ask, you knew the dead man was the assassin, so is that why you rushed the investigation?"

"Right. I knew he was dead and that Jerry probably killed the bloke in self defense, which isn't a crime."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that…" Layton stood up and smiled down at the Investigator.

"Two more questions… how did you connect the mystery prison with Dr. Teresa's old project? And why did you have us meet here?"

"The sky prison would make the most sense. It's the only prison, used or unused, that the cops don't know the location of. The building site is still a state secret… I imagine whoever's the mastermind behind all stumbled upon it and used it."

"I see…"

"and I had us meet here because this place is suspicious as well. Remember what I said about the disappearances starting months ago? Well, it was five months, to be exact… the same month this little club was established. I don't have any other links but I'm sure if I dig around I'll find it."

"And…?"

Chelmey looked away, perhaps embarrassed. The important part of that question was not why they were meeting there, but rather why he was telling Layton all this in the first place.

"Whether I like it or not, you're involved now. If you're going to be digging around I'd rather you get your information from me than that hack Mr. Palmer."

Layton tipped his hat and grinned at the inspector.

"Thank you very much for this, Inspector. I wont betray you're trust."

"Don't disappoint me, Professor… I expect results from you."

"Results you shall-"

"ATTENTION!"

A booming voice carried out over the large mass of murmuring men.

"The interview process has started! Please form a line and prepare yourselves!"

The group of men started clamoring about, trying to be first in line. Layton headed towards the mass and smiled to himself. It looks like he had himself a brand new adventure… who runs this sky prison? How did the stranger really die? How did Jerry escape? Who gave Professor Layton and Chelmey a copy of the assassin's paper? Is Professor Laytons assumptions about the paper correct? And what is Mr. Palmer and Loki Publication really hiding?

The answers? He'd find them for sure.


	9. Chapter 9

Authors notes: Well, the chapters are coming out slower, but I hope that doesn't ruin it for my one or two dedicated readers. Things may seem confusing… I worry that I didn't do an adequate job explaining things last chapter, but hopefully there are still more unknowns than known's. I don't want to spoil it all, now!

At any rate, please enjoy!

Edit: wow, I forgot the line-thingies! I'll get that right in!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**~A Interview with a Stranger~**

The line was long, and standing in it was a taxing ordeal itself: these men, in their eagerness, were shoulder to shoulder with each other, pressed tightly together. Not only that, there was a great deal of anxiousness in the air, each man seemed worried or stressed about one thing or another… the Professor couldn't help but wonder what was so unique about this club, with so many people itching to join… likewise, he couldn't imagine that there would be so many filthy rich in London. They all looked middle class, strangely enough… perhaps this was a very unique initiation?

Regardless, it took the Professor a good two hours of standing and making awkward small talk with the occasional fan before he was granted access to the interviewing chamber. Inside wasn't nearly as grand as the lobby was: simply a dark room with a table and a small selection of chairs.

A voice came from behind the table, a darkened region of the room so that Layton couldn't see the origin of the voice.

"Pick a chair, Mr. Layton… what kind of chair you pick tells a lot about you, you know…"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 18)~**

**~"Sit down, Professor."~**

**15/15**

"Here at the Black Dog Society, we cherish someone who has proper posture, who stays on his toes, and keeps a level head."

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/ nn67/Pocru/Professor%20Layton%20 Questions/SitDownProfessor. jpg

What chair should the Professor sit in?

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This one required some lateral thinking! I hope you could figure it out!

The correct chair would be C.

It's easier first to determine what he's hinting at with each quality to determine the chair: sitting posture is based on your back, so its safe to say you want a chair with a straight back. If you want to stay on your toes, you have to pick a big chair: so you can't keep your feet rested on the floor, only your toes. The final one, "a level head" is a bit tricky: it could mean, in theory, a number of things. But focus on the second word: level. Bearing that in mind the seat is the best option for determining what a level head is.

After figuring that out, C is the only chair that meets all three criteria.

If you got this right, get yourself 15 Picarats. If not, you probably won't be joining the Black Dog Society anytime soon, but you still get 10 Picarats.

* * *

"Very good…" The man cooed, and suddenly a light pierced the darkness behind the desk to illuminate a old man sharply dressed in the latest fashion.

"you'll have to excuse the cloak-and-dagger entrance, I simply delight in such things."

"Don't worry about it, my good man." Layton nodded as he settled into his rather-uncomfortable chair.

"In any case, I knew it was only a matter of time until the great Hershel Layton wished to join our fine establishment. Not being obscurely wealthy, you must have had a hard time with the applications at first, but this being our first annual charity initiation you must of seen this as an opportunity and leapt at it, yes?"

The Professor wasn't quite sure how to reply.

"Yes, that appears to be the case." He smiled, crossing his legs as he sat.

"Now, Mr. Layton, if the tales of your exploits are true, then I know already you have many of the qualities that would make someone qualify to be a member of our humble little club. You are a gentleman, with sophisticated tastes, you have a respectable profession, wonderful social standing, and you are intelligent and witty enough to hold your own in a conversation. Up until now the only thing holding you back was your… meager salary, but under these circumstances your acceptance is, for all practical purposes, guaranteed."

Layton couldn't help but feel guilty: he felt as if he was stealing a position in the society simply by merit of his title from another gentleman who sincerely wanted to be a member. But this was important, so he'd have to make amends some other way: perhaps by giving away his weekly tickets.

"Why, I'm flattered." The Archeologist was, in fact, rather humbled to hear of someone other than Luke speak of him so highly.

"But let's not forget due process, my boy. Let's at least humor the system and give you the proper interview. Now, why do you think you deserve to be in the Black Dog society?"

"I'm an upstanding gentleman with very refined qualities, who loves music as much as he loves intelligent and meaningful conversations."

"Very good. Now, we have meetings once a week. Do you think you could attend all of these meetings?"

"Certainly."

The man smiled to himself and pulled out a piece of paper.

"We here at the Black Dog society don't just let anyone in, as you know already: our doorman tests your intelligence, and you will again have to test your wit here at the interview table. Are you ready?"

"Certainly."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 19)~**

**~Breakfast, Lunch and Supper~**

**40/40 – Extra Credit Possible! **

Jerry the uncouth obese grease monkey eats three meals a day, breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. For breakfast, he has 1000 calories worth of food. At Lunch, he has two times that, and for dinner he has 2.5 times what he had at lunch. One day, however, he decides to have a Lupper as well: the amount of calories in Lupper's meal equal Lunch+Supper divided by two.

The menu for Lupper is listed below He can only order a particular food once. How many combination's of food can he order? Don't worry about finding EVERY combination: just find as many as you can.

Salad: 300 calories

Steak: 1300 calories

Chicken: 500 Calories

Pasta: 700 Calories

Ice Cream: 400 Calories

Honey-Glazed-Ham: 1600 calories

Iced tea: 150 calories

Turkey: 1100 Calories

Duck: 600 Calories

Roast Beef: 800 calories

Bubbly: 200 Calories

Fully-loaded Potato: 900 calories

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The hardest part of this one is the math: finding out how many calories is in Lupper. From there, you just need patience. The total number of calories was 3500, so that gave you a lot of options. Here are some I got.

Salad, Chicken, Pasta, Honey-Glazed-Ham, Ice Cream.

Salad, Steak, Ice cream, Duck, Potato

Fully-loaded potato, Honey-Glazed ham, Roast Beef, Bubby

Chicken, Duck, Turkey, Roast Beef, Potato, Ice Cream

Pasta, Duck, Bubbly, Salad, Roast Beef, Potato.

Honey-glazed ham, Turkey, Roast Beef

Ice Cream, Steak, Turkey, Pasta

Honey-glazed ham, Ice cream, Potato, Duck.

Duck, Roast Beef, Bubbly, Honey-Glazed-Ham, Salad

Bubbly, Roast Beef, Turkey, Potato, Chicken

If you got ten or more, give yourself all 40 Picarats.

If you got 8-6, you can have 38

If you got 5-1, you can have 34

If you didn't solve it, you get 30.

If you think you found EVERY combination of food possible, let me know! I'll award you a lot of bonus Picarats!

* * *

"You're certainly as clever as you look, Professor Layton." The man smiled, bearing his crooked teeth in Layton's direction. "You will certainly fit in wonderfully."

"How delightful you should think so."

"Now, the last matter of which you must attend is quite simply a vow of secrecy."

The Professor lifted an eyebrow.

"A vow of secrecy? Whatever for?"

"It's more of a novelty, really. We don't do anything here the law wouldn't approve, but it's simply a test of your dedication."

Now, this, Layton was suspicious of. There were certainly other, and easier ways to test someone's devotion to a cause… and as a gentleman he certainly couldn't take that vow then reveal what it is he learned under such an oath. This, combined with the curious coincidence that made this club open around the time of the disappearances, plus the rather unusual invitation for Flora… Layton's intuition was telling him this was certainly not just a simple club.

But what could he do? He certainly wasn't comfortable taking an oath he never intended to keep, but it was for a greater good: he'd sacrifice every ounce of his reputation if it would save a life… and there might not be any other way to get information on the Black Dogs.

"Well, if it's nothing more than a novelty, I'll do it." He closed his eyes as he spoke this, still not entirely comfortable with the notion.

"Excellent." The old man smiled, then picked up a tube and called into it. "Oh, Mr. Icabob, please show the other gentlemen out, we have our new member."

Layton's eyes widened: Icabob? That was the name of one of Mr. Palmer's associates! It would appear this lead paid off much quicker than he first anticipated it would… outside, he could hear the disappointed moans of the other hopefuls outside as they were instructed to take their leave… today was not a good day to be the Professor's guilt.

With that, the old man stood up and extended his arm out to Layton, who stood up himself and shook it.

"Welcome," the old man smiled, "To the Black Dog Society."


	10. Chapter 10

Authors Notes: I'm not trying to blow my own horn when I say I consider myself a pretty creatively-included guy. If my idea's are good or not isn't really of consequence, what matters is that I like to use my own character's and stories and the like. On that note, you can understand the delay in this chapters release: I've been somewhat tied up by my schedule and my own idea's and characters. I mean, I certainly understand the appeal of fan-fiction: you're taking pre-established characters and using them, their by eliminating any unnecessary time instituting your own. Also, unlike your own work, which needs to find its own fanbase, with fanfiction, the support and fan's are already there, eager to drink up anything you have to offer so long as it has an ounce of quality and continuity.

…but it's just plain not as much fun as your own imagination, ya know?

So delays can be attributed to my continual crusade to establish my own idea's in this silly little world of ours…

But I've ranted enough. Enjoy! =D

* * *

**Chapter 10**

~The SunSword~

The room was dimly lit, but not so much as the interview room: this room, if possible, was even more lavish than the lobby, with such rare crystals, metals, and works of art it would take a master of the arts to be able to list half of them. He was in a sort of awe upon seeing the careful décor choices and the many priceless antiquities out for private display: how could a club so recently established manage to acquire so much? Even the royal family's collection must have been comparable to the wealth in this place, at the least… and what's more, from all he understood about the club, all they did was talk and go to symphonies, why such a eccentrically well-furnished home base?

He was standing in the center of the room, the current members of the club seated around him in a circle. They were of varying age, but they were all men and clearly British: not a single foreigner could be identified within their ranks. It would be hard to distinguish Icabob from the group.

"We at the Black Dog Society will begin the initiation right of our comrade, Hershel Layton. Mr. Layton, please kneel."

It felt like he was being accepted into a strange, elitist cult more than he was joining a group of well-bred Englishmen. The leader of the club was standing before him, holding a sheathed sword, wielding it in a matter that implied Layton would soon become a victim to the blade. Soon enough, the gleaming broadsword was removed from its sheath, so pure the steel glistened brightly even with the little light illuminating the room… and thankfully the sharp edge didn't come down on Layton's neck.

"The journey of this blades repentance shall take another step forward today." The leader announced, "Please, sir, take off your hat."

"If it's all the same to you, my good sir," Layton looked up at the man, purposely avoiding directly looking at the blade, "I'd prefer this hat stay on my head. It is as much a part of me as my hair and my skin."

"Very well. Mr. Layton, with this sword," he pressed it down gently against the top of his hat, "May this sword cleave through ignorance that may plague your mind, and cleanse you of any impure darkness that resides within the folds of our soul."

The sword was pulled up and sheathed back. Layton stood up.

"You are now officially a member of the Black Dogs." The leader smiled, pulling back his hood to show a man not much older than the Professor. "My name's Roark, if you ever need me. Please, get to know your fellow Black Dogs."

The room's dim atmosphere was removed, light soon flooded the area and the members started to socialize, turning to each other and talking amongst themselves. However, before they could completely lose themselves in their conversation, the Professor spoke loudly, catching their attention.

"If you don't mind me saying, I must confess this is a wonderful honor for me, and I'm delighted to be a member of this fine establishment. I've heard great things about you're clubs wit, and I'm sure you've all at least heard in passing the tales of my accomplishments. So to celebrate this new milestone, let me propose a puzzle."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 20)~**

**~The Professors Puzzle~**

**15/15**

The Professor has a little welcoming puzzle for all his new associates.

OTTFFSSEN_

Can you find the last letter in the chain?

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Get it? The last letter is T!

It may of not been obvious at first, but once you figured out the pattern it was really easy. **O**ne, **T**wo, **T**hree, **F**our, **F**ive, **S**ix, **S**even, **E**ight, **N**ine, **T**en!

If you got this, go ahead and add 15 Picarats to your score. If you got it wrong, give yourself 7. If you thought the answer was Q, you get 13 Picarats: don't as me why, I'm just feeling random.

* * *

It didn't take long for one of the men to speak the answer aloud.

"Very good." The Professor praised, removing himself from the metaphorical pedestal and allowing himself to mingle. He had to find Icabob in this crowd… the real mystery would be if he would be willing to reveal himself to the Professor. He was sure he could figure out who the man was, but how easy it would be depended on the cooperation of this mysterious man. He decided to start with the nearest man he could find…

"That's quite a fine sword you have." Layton commented, initiating a conversation. "It's ability to light up even when the room was dimly lit quite astounded me."

"Oh, yes." The man was very old, forced to resort to using a cane to hold himself up. "That's the pride and joy of the society. It's called the sunsword, and it has quite a history behind it, if you'd like to hear about it."

"I love antiques. Please tell."

"Well, you may not have realized this, but part of the reason the Black Dog Society is so exclusive is because it's also a haven for collectors of these fine antiquities. This entire building is adored with parts of each of our respective collections. The Sunsword was the first item to be part of this giant compilation… I believe our founder is the owner."

Well, the mystery of how this building became so well-furnished was solved.

"It's a family heirloom, I believe: the metal is so pure that any light shining directly on it could blind a foe, hence the name. Apparently, the sword had slew a hundred men before its wielder died… it's said that his soul will continue to haunt this world until the sword is cleansed."

"I see… how fascinating. By the way, we haven't introduced ourselves yet. My name is Hershel Layton."

"Harry Christoph." The man shook Layton's hand.

"This may seem odd, Harry, but may I ask: which of these men go by the name of Icabob?"

"Oh… that man's an enigma, he is. He's the right hand man of the society, but he likes to use alibi's and the like, just for the fun of it… but maybe if you ask around, you'll find out who he is…"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 21)~**

**~Who is Icabob?~**

**40/40**

Layton took Harry's advice and interviewed six other members of the society: here are their testimonies:

A) "F and D are liers."

B) "F or C is Icabob."

C) "I'm a truth-teller, and I know D isn't Icabob."

D) "A Is a lier, and B is Icabob."

E) "Clearly C is Icabob."

F) "B and E are truth-tellers"

Layton knows two are telling the truth, and four are lying. He also knows one of the liars is Icabob.

This is a hard one, so I've provided you with two hints: and you know the drill with hints.

So who's Icabob?

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Hint 1:

This puzzle will be a lot easier of you assume that two of the men are truth tellers right off the bat. If you do that, then find some sort of contradiction and work with it.

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Hint 2:

Hint 1 not good enough? Try this: assume that C is Icabob. Look for evidence supporting this claim, then find something that would disprove it… like, maybe, a third "truth" teller.

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The answer is…

E!

This is confusing, but doable. To start, both B and E claim C is Icabob: assume they're the truth-tellers. If that's the case, then F has to also be a truth-teller, so that can't be the case: so we know B, E, and F have to be liars. This means that A, B, or D could be truth-tellers… well, we know A is accusing F of being a liar, and sense we know he's a liar that means A is a truth teller, so D is also a liar.

At this point, we know B, D, E and F are liars and A and C are truth tellers. So how do we get E? Well, of the four candidates, B said that F is a possible candidate, but sense he's a liar F is removed from the equation. D claims B is Icabob, and as a liar we can't trust what he has to say, can we? This leaves us with E and D…and C, who's a truth-teller, says that D is NOT Icabob. This leaves us with E!

This was a much harder version of the student puzzle, as I'm sure you noticed. If you got this right, you get a big boost of 40 Picarats. First hint will get you 37, and second will drop your score to 34. If you didn't solve this at all, you still claim 30.

* * *

"Well done, Mr. Layton." Icabob smiled. He was a ugly man, gritty teeth and unshaven face: his eyes were lopsided and his nose was very irregularly shaped… he nearly appeared as a cripple. "Leave it to you to find me out… Mr. Palmer made a fine choice."

"Yes, well, I wished to discuss that with you, if you don't mind." Layton sat down, nodding in the direction of another chair, a invitation for the man: it was taken.

"I understand you're the one to start the series of halfway houses." Layton cut right to the meat, not waiting a moment before getting straight to business. "Is the Black Dog Society linked to this in any way?"

"Now, Professor…" the man slyly smiled in a way that was unintentionally menacing. "I myself didn't create this club, Mr. Roark did…"

Layton sighed.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well, the Black Dog's certainly could be linked to something, but if it was, I wouldn't be aware of it. I'm simply a member. I established these half-way houses when I stumbled upon a former inmate who told me his story… I pitied him and his kin, and I was so disgusted by this apparent abuse I dedicated a small fortune to helping these men and women escape from this injustice… I know only what they've told me."

* * *

**~(Time to play Detective!)~**

**5/5**

What's wrong with Icabob's story?

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If you recall, Mr. Palmer said that not one of the prisoners could remember a thing.

This means that either Mr. Palmer or Icabob is lying. But who?

This is another all-or-nothing question.

* * *

"I see…" The professor took a mental note of this inconsistency and continued. "And who is Lanks? What roll does he play in this?"

"Lanks is an old friend of mine… He's the one who introduced me to this broken fellow."

"And how did Lanks meet him?"

"I never asked."

"I see…" Layton closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander… meeting Icabob didn't give him much to go off, except the discrepancy in each his and Mr. Palmers stories, and that Lanks seemed to play a larger role than Icabob. Also, the Professor would of liked to know how it was Icabob found out about Mr. Palmers attempts to dig into the matter… as he understood it Mr. Palmer was trying to remain secretive in his investigations.

"Well, I thank you for your cooperation." Layton smiled at the man. "But with that, I'd best be on my way. I need to get home by nine…"

"Oh, what a pitty…" Icabob sighed. "well, I do look forward to our next meeting: and before you go, Mr. Layton, may I impart upon you some information?"

Layton's attention was perked by this, and turned to face the man as he stood up.

"Yes?"

"Roark, bless his soul, something about him feels off to me. I think you'd do best to find out what it is."

Layton tipped his hat. "Thank you, my good man."

He said his final goodbyes to the rest of the club, then departed for his house to inform his assistants of his recent discoveries.


	11. Chapter 11

Authors notes: I don't like the puzzles in this chapter. Puzzle 22 is easy. Just a forewarning. Puzzle 23 is just… I mean, it's doable, but… I dunno, it just rubs me the wrong way.

I hope this isn't a sign my puzzle-making abilities are running dry… well, on the bright side, lots of story this chapter, so I hope that makes up for things. =3

Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

~The Boogyman~

"So, it was a fairly rare case where the new question's don't exceed the new answers. I know, or at least have a vague idea, where it is the people are being taken… I think I know what Mr. Palmer's and Icabob's roles are in all this, but other than that all the questions are the one's I've held before. Additionally, we have a few avenue's to travel from here."

"Like what, Professor?"

The three were seated around the table, Luke and Flora long abandoning their fancy clothes and replaced them with their more comfortable daily wear. The tea had been prepared by Luke this time, a relaxing brew to help the Professor unwind and think things over. They were both eagerly awaiting his return the whole of his absence, and now that he was back they listened intently as he told them of his exploits.

"Well, we could either try to find Edward McOpel, the runaway, and see what he knows: not only would he be able to clear up the liars in the case, but he could also tell us about these kidnappings and assassinations with more clarity than the Inspector did. We could also continue our Don Paolo lead, and see how he happened across this case, and how he associated it with money… he called Mr. Edward McOpel a 'golden goose', and I'd like to know why. Finally, the Black Dog society itself seems a viable source of information… not only does Icabob find the whole place suspicious but the timing of its establishment raises a few red flags."

He leaned back as Flora made an observation.

"It seems like the ease of these leads and how much information they give us are proportional, doesn't it?"

Professor Layton nodded.

"Right you are, Flora."

"Wait, I'm still confused on something, Professor." Luke spoke up as he put away his now empty teacup. "How come you made me bring Flora home? You hadn't told us yet."

"Intuition. And I must confess I'm glad I did send you away from that place. As you know, it was full of men… what they needed a lone girl for, why, I shutter at the thought. They seemed like decent people, but I still wouldn't bet Flora's safety on that fact."

This concern for her safety caused a faint blush to brush across her rosy cheeks.

"That makes sense. So then, what should our next move be?"

Layton smiled.

"Well, Luke, there are three leads and three of us. I'm sure you can do the math."

The two suddenly got very excited, eyes brightening and heads perking up.

"You mean-?"

"Yes."

The Professor hadn't ever trusted them to go solo on missions before: this sudden sense of trust and responsibility made them nearly drunk with enthusiasm.

"Oh! What do you want me to do, Professa?" Luke asked, leaning forward with a intense expression. Flora was smiling too, and just as willing, but at the same time somewhat worried: she hadn't been accompanying the Professor as long or often as Luke had, so she was concerned she wouldn't be adequate for the job. The teacher grinned and looked at his pupil.

"Luke, I want you to go about town looking for information about Edward McOpel, AKA Jerry. You know enough about the case, I'm positive you can dig something up."

Layton turned and put his hand on Flora's with a reassuring smile. "Flora dear, I need you go to Chelmey and ask him for information on Don Paolo's whereabouts. If he happens to know of a hideout of sorts, please ask him for its location and his company: I wouldn't even want to go near one of his layers unaccompanied."

Feeling more confident that an adult figure would be around, she nodded with assurance. While she was sure she could find leads and hints herself, at least she wouldn't be forced to wander around all by herself, especially in such a scary place.

"I myself, being the only one with access to the Black Dog's society, will investigate that lead. Is everyone okay with this plan?"

Both nodded, and Luke gave a thumbs up as well.

"Excellent. The three of us working together, we'll solve this for sure. But we should wait until tomorrow for this particular adventure. It's getting rather late… nearly nine o'clock, in fact."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 22)~**

**~Bedtime Story~**

**10/10**

Luke is a big boy, and Flora a big girl… but bedtime stories are for all ages to enjoy, no? Besides, who doesn't want to hear the Professor do voices? But sometimes the Professor likes to slip puzzles into the stories, just to keep his apprentices on their toes. This was the case with tonight's tale:

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/Pocru /Professor%20Layton%20 Questions/BedtimeStoryquestion .jpg

This sad tale shows a poor man with his son trapped in the Demon-tree, a devilish plant with lethal fruit. The boy needs to get down, but can only travel down a certain path: he always goes straight down, but has to travel to the left or right when the path allows: you all know this kind of puzzle, dontcha?

As it stands, if the child were to try to get down now, his father wouldn't catch him and he'd go splat on the ground: what ONE sideways line can you eliminate so that the boy falls gently into his loving fathers arms?

But before you answer, remember this complication: at the same time the boy climbs down, so does the deranged fruit, which also follows the preset paths. If any of the fruit lands on the man, he'll die! The boy is agile, however: he can dodge the fruit as he falls down, so they can technically travel down the same path.

Can you save the boy?

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Frankly, it was more complicated drawing this puzzle than it was solving it.

http ://i301. photobucket. com/albums/ nn67/Pocru/Professor% 20Layton%20Answers/Bedtimestoryanswer. jpg

There were a few branchs preventing a happy ending: eliminating the correct one was probably your first instinct, and subsequent checks of all the fruit proved that it was the right case. There were a few other branches that would of worked gotten the kid down, but in those cases a fruit would of killed the father.

The real puzzle of this was not getting confused by the added dimension of the fruit.

If you got this, ten points. A wrong answer will give you only five, plus a heart-broken father and a guilty conscious.

* * *

That night, all three had a hard time sleeping: the children were excited for their first solo missions, while Layton was thinking things over: he had some degree of leisure when solving his last two cases… no urgency in either situations, but this one was much more immediate. People were still disappearing. People were still dying. Any delay on his part could result in the ending of a life… it had been a long time sense this sort of pressure had been placed on his shoulders, and the extra stress that came along with that sort of responsibility kept him awake.

Perhaps that was for the best: the moon was high in the sky as he was wandering through the kitchen as silently as he could in an effort to prepare some tea without awakening the children. The bags under his eyes had grown exaggerated in his unrest, and he was finding it hard to focus on the task at hand as he slowly stirred the herbs into the pot. It was so late, he wasn't accustomed to staying up quite so long…

_*thud*_

His chin snapped up and looked around: was Luke awake?

"Luke?" He murmured into the inky darkness of his home, "Are you awake, my boy?"

The creaking of distant floorboards were the only reply.

"Flora? Is it you?"

Not a word of reply. Deciding to investigate, the Professor put down the spoon he was using to stir and started to slowly shuffle across the ground, his eyes peering this way and that… only to find nothing and no one at each corner. The place was eerily quiet, but at the concept of danger it was quite amazing how his everyday, mundane things seemed to acquire some supernatural malevolence to them… as brilliant as the man was, he was still only a human.

_*thud*_

He quickly twisted his head in the direction of the sound: the door. He knew better than to call out into the night, asking who it was: such an action wouldn't warrant a reply from an intruding party, who defiantly knew the Professor was awake. The man slowly approached the door and gripped the handle… then with a gentle twist, pulled it open.

What happened next was a blur: a quick flash of recognition, a hand, a handkerchief… then darkness. The efficiency of the assault gave the teacher little time to recoil or react as he fell to the ground, creating the final of three thuds.

His eyes fluttered open, forced to overcome the resistance of the sandman before the light could enter his dark-soaked irises. He lifted his hand and pressed his palm to his forehead, moaning slightly from discomfort.

"Good heavens… what happened?"

He slowly pulled himself up: he was in his room. He was covered in his blankets… and he was even tucked in.

"G-goodness…" he turned his attention to the clock at his side: it was eight in the morning. Both Luke and Flora should be awake by now, completely unaware of the events of the night. Slowly, the man got out of the blankets keeping his body warm and stumbled out into the kitchen, where the two were waiting expectantly.

"Good morning, Professa. Sleeping in today? I noticed you left the tea set out."

"Not intentionally, I assure you." The man sighed, still feeling somewhat drugged. "I was assaulted last night…"

"WHAT?" Both called out in unison, Luke slamming his hands on the table in rage.

"I was awake last night… I tried to prepare myself some calming tea to help me sleep, when I heard a noise… investigating, I went outside, where some stranger knocked me out…"

"A stranger? How dare they attack you! Did you see what they looked like?"

"Hardly, it was over so fast… they were well trained… skilled in the art of quick take-downs…"

Layton eyed the morning paper, which was lain out unceremoniously on the table, peppered through by Luke and Flora earlier as they waited for their mentor to wake up. Quickly, he grabbed it and flipped rapidly through the pages, looking for something and ignoring the inquisitive grunts and stares from the children.

He froze at a certain page.

"My… it's just as I feared…"

He laid the paper out before the two children, where in the corner, a article proclaimed proudly the execution notice for criminal Hershel Layton.

"The man on top's noticed my digging…" Layton sighed, leaning forward as Luke and Flora eyed the article with awe and fear. "But who could of told them…?"

"Professor, this is terrible!" Luke cried, "You have to get out of here! Hide or something!"

Luke's dire and stressed warning was acknowledged by the Professor, but he was busy being adrift in his own mind to pay it any real heed… or to establish the true direness that this situation entailed.

"That person last night must of given us this paper… and if he was an assassin and he didn't kill me… he must be on our side… but why? And why can't he tell us anything…"

"This is all true, but…" Flora gripped his shoulder, her fingers slightly trembling from fear. "Please, can't we think about this later? I… I don't want to lose you too…" Layton turned to look at his adopted daughter and caught glance of how troubled her eyes were, memories of her past swelling up behind the pools of color.

"Right." Luke grimaced. "We'll have to change our plans around a bit…" and as suddenly as they had learned the Professor was a target Luke grabbed the reins of the investigation right from under the nose Layton, who had been jarred out of his own mind by Flora's plea.

"First off," He started, "Professor, there's no place you're really safe. We can't trust the Black Dogs, and for all we know this assassin's got your number and can disguise himself as any one of your friends or associates. Heck, we can be pretty sure there's more than one, too."

"…right." The Professor sighed as he looked into his hands. "We can't put the investigation on hold, people's lives are in danger… but I couldn't possibly travel with either of you on your respective chores, I don't wish to endanger you in any way."

Flora had the paper in her hands when she spoke up again, having let go of the Professor's shoulder earlier.

"Perhaps we're over-thinking things. We have the special paper right here." She held it up and smiled. "And the assassin's only know what the paper tells them. All we have to use is decipher the code and use the answer to determine where the Professor should avoid."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 23)~**

**~Hidden Messages 3~**

**20/20**

Having purchased a normal paper, the three investigators examine the articles in question: however, the code seems to have changed.

"**Huh" A Common Phrase________________________"Buh" A Common Phrase**

**Kelly has a knack for solving things________________Mack, my best friend.**

**The dangers of Cog's____________________________The Danger's of Logs**

**Mightily, a scent for men!_________________________Rightily is not a word! **

Can you figure out what TWO places to avoid? Remember, they have to be places the professor might go to!

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Get the answers? One is from solving the puzzle, and the other is from simple logic.

The Black Dog society… and Layton's house!

Why Layton's house? Well, if one assassin knew where he lived, it's a safe bet all of them do!

The Black Dog Society was easy if you remembered to limit the number of potential choices to the number of locations mentioned by name in this story. That means you're choices are limited to Loki Publications, Scotland Yard, and The Black Dog Society. Looking at things in common, you see that there isn't much: except the fact that a word in each sentence rhymes. Huh – Buh, Knack – Mack, Cog – Log, Mightily – Rightily(?) and the like.

What rhymes with huh and buh? The! Knack and Mack? Black! And so forth.

If you got this right, go ahead and give yourself all 20 picarats. If you failed, you still get 16.

* * *

"Good thinking, Flora." Layton put the paper down and smiled. "With that, I can confidently accompany either one of you on your jobs… but, rather, I think I'll just stay here… maybe I can set a trap for the assassin."

But at the same time as he said that, he pulled out a pen and started to write on the newspaper, causing the children to look down in confusion.

"_Go outside, don't close the door: I'll follow you in a moment."_

The two weren't sure what he was doing, but they nodded silently and walked outside without another word. Standing outside, Flora looked over at Luke.

"What do you suppose he's thinking?"

"…I can't say for sure, but I can guess at it."

No sooner did he finish that sentence did Professor Layton step out himself, closing the door as silently as he could behind him.

"Not only did we learn where I should avoid today, but another important fact has been made clear to us.

Luke and Flora leaned in, curious. Layton gave a few cautious glances around.

"We're not safe in our home anymore. We're being spied on."

"WHAT?" Luke and Flora cried in unison…. Again.

"The Black Dog society doesn't meet today. There would be no reason to assume I'd be visiting the building today unless they have been listening in on us…"

"Gosh!" Luke cringed. "How did they do this? What do we do?"

"I don't know…" The Professor started to walk while he thought, putting distance between himself and the site of his potential assassination. "I'd like to know when they started spying on us. Knowing they've been Big Brothering us, they could of gone ahead of us, in theory, and erase any indication of their presence at any of the places we've investigated before we got there. This is clearly a very intricate and efficient organization we're dealing with…"

They had never been told outright it was an organization, but it was an extremely safe assumption: no individual could mobilize so effectively.

"In any case, no point to linger around here. Flora, why don't you go out and talk to the Inspector? I'm sure he'll have an audience with you. Luke, let us comb the streets…"

She nodded and walked: as the trio separated, each one had their minds on the mysteries before them: and the dangers that were hidden ahead.


	12. Chapter 12

Authors note: Its approaching springtime, and I'm a senior in high school. Naturally, I'm pretty busy with all this college and stuff going down, so… buttons. I make all the puzzles up myself, as you may know, and sometimes it takes a while for those puzzles to pop into mah head.

And lately it feels like I've been making some crappy puzzles. So just a heads-up… although I do like these puzzles.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**~Flora's Investigation~**

"So you're here on behalf of Mr. Layton, eh? I woulda thought he would respect me enough to come himself."

Chelmey glared down at the girl as she sat timidly across the table. Naturally, the two weren't exactly sure how to treat one another: both had once been Don Paolo in disguise and both of them, instead of uniting under that similar banner, decided to use it as grounds of suspicion.

"He's busy looking for Edward McOpel." She replied, staying somewhat calm under the intensity of the investigators glare. "He asked me to investigate a different lead."

"And what lead would that be, young miss?" He wagged his finger at her in nearly an accusatory manner, but she didn't take it that way.

"A few days ago, we were attacked by Don Paolo… he said Edward was somehow worth a lot of money to someone. I'd like to see what he meant by that… and more than that, find out how he came to this conclusion."

"Well, what you need me for? You seem bring enough."

She wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not.

"Well, I need two things from you, Inspector… I need the location of one of the Don's hideouts, and your company… for protection, I mean."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"A hideout? Why, I got quite a few of em' marked down…" he started to mumble, closing his eyes and folding his arms together in a contemplative matter: he wasn't sure if he would, or even could, help the young girl out. After all, it was a police matter… but he did offer to help Layton, so what choice did he have?

"grrr… fine. I'll help. But you gotta find the correct hideout on the map. Even I don't know which one it is."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 24)~**

**~Don Paolo's Hideout~**

**30/30**

Inspector Chelmey has a map of all of Don Paolo's potential hideouts.

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/Pocru/ Professor%20Layton%20Questions/ DonPaoloshousequestion. jpg

The Don, being the sharp fellow he is, knew this, and decided to taunt the inspector by sending him this cryptic riddle.

"The Crook that I Be

As as you can clearly see

The rules I break three

Unspoken yet there, like me."

Can you find the real hideout?

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Here's the real hideout:

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/Pocru/ Professor%20Layton%20 Answers/DonPaoloshouseanswer. Jpg

When the crook said he broke three laws, you can't take that literally: after all, there are no laws that we know that he could break simply based on house position. So you have to assume that by law, he means pattern. By that standard, you have to find something all the houses have in common.

Much like the chess puzzles in the first game, none of the houses share a row, column, or diagonal streak of boxes: except for one, who breaks that pattern not once, not twice, but three times in total.

If you got this right, congrats! 30 Picarats! If you failed, you're score is still upped by 22.

* * *

She pointed to the hideout on the map, and the gruff detective started to stammer.

"Y-yeah? Well, that was the one I thought it was too! Good to see you passed my test!" He hastily put away the map and stood up: his thinly veiled attempt to protect his dignity was as transparent as glass, but being the lady she was Flora didn't linger on it. Instead she stood and followed the still mumbling Inspector to his car.

"I'll drive us, it'll be quicker." He said as he unlocked the door and opened it, gesturing for Flora to get in. She thanked him and sat down, thinking things over as she did so: something seemed… unusual about the inspector's behavior. If Luke's descriptions of Chelmey were accurate, he was hardly, if ever, this cooperative.

As the car started to go down the street, she couldn't help but address her concerns, against her better judgment.

"Why are you being so cooperative? I'm really nothing more than civilian."

"I offered to help the professor, in a manner of speaking." He admitted, "And this inspector's a man of his word."

They were silent for the rest of the ride, the awkwardness shared between them overpowering any urge they might of felt to dispel the silence. Luckily, it wasn't a terribly long drive away, and in a matter of minutes they were pulling up to an apartment building in one of the shoddier parts of town.

"This is it, then." He got out of the car, Flora close at his heels, and walked into the building, where a familiar face was sweeping the main hall.

"Yea? What is it, then?"

Flora and the Chelmey froze.

"B-Bella? What are you doing here?!" Flora gasped.

The woman looked over at the girl with a bit of surprise on her face, then shook it off.

"Who's this Bella you're talkin' bout, lass? M' names Gurtrude, and I own this here place. What do you blokes want?"

"W-we're here" the inspector stated, not commenting on this strange occurrence, "To see one Mr. Paolo. What room does he reside in?"

"Oh, yea? He's in room 112. Crazy man, he is, always shoutin' and screamin' bout some mess or anotha. Pay's rent often, thou."

Without another word the two went towards the room, but Flora cast a few backwards glances in Bella's direction.

"What's going on?" She whispered to the inspector as they walked. "That's Bella, from Loki Publication. What's she doing here?"

"An identical twin, perhaps?"

That seemed feasible, but at the same time Flora couldn't shake the feeling it wasn't that simple. However, before she could mull it over any further, they reached the door crudely labeled 112: Don Paolo's room. It was locked, naturally, but being a member of Scotland Yard the Inspector was able to work around it and push open the door leading to the lair of the mad scientist.

It was exactly as one would imagine: a total mess. It looked like a very powerful yet very localized hurricane blew through, throwing everything about and creating a junkyard of parts and papers covered with practically illegible markings. The room loomed ominously, with very little lighting to illuminate the place. It reeked of old, musky cigars, and a thin layer of smoke still hung in the air, much like the aurora of tea filled the professors house: it was made clear, through comparison, how different yet similar the two men were.

"Oh, wow…" Flora waved her hand in front of her face as the smoke wafted over her, "This place is a terrible mess."

"We'll have a hard time finding anything here, I recon. But the job of a crime-fighter is never easy. Comeon, lets go." The Inspector walked in and started to take a look around: reluctantly, Flora followed.

It took two hours of flipping through nonsensical papers and digging through piles of junk before anything of promise came to them.

"Inspector, come look at this." Flora pulled out a small box with a piece of paper taped to it, written upon it in chikcnescratch "McOpel Notes". The lid of the box was sealed on airtight, and a locking mechanism was on the box. When the inspector walked over and fingered up the box, he peered at it suspiciously.

"Why do you suppose he has this information under lock and key?"

"Perhaps he suspected we'd come. It seemed odd to me that he'd give you a hint to help you solve the puzzle about his hideout. And the locking mechanism seems to be a puzzle as well…"

She flipped the piece of paper over and saw not only was the key taped to this side of the paper, but also instructions.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 25)~**

**~The Locked Box~**

**30/30**

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor%20 Layton%20Questions/LockedBox. jpg

The instructions on the back of the paper go as follows:

"You start on 2, 4, or 3.

-from there, you can jump to any adjacent number (Not diagonally): each jump counts as one move.

-every odd numbered move (1, 3, 5,) you make, you can only move to a number divisible by your starting number

-Every even numbered move you make (2, 4, 6), you have to move to a number that's one higher or lower than the number your currently on.

What number can you start on to get the lowest number of possible jumps until you reach the lock/aka the number 8?"

You turn the key in the direction of the correct number: turn it in the wrong direction, however, and who knows what nasty trap will spring?

Can you solve this?

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Answer: The number 2!

The key to this puzzle is the idea that any number divisible by four is also divisible by two. If you remember that, all you have to do is make sure that three isn't the answer: because two already has a head start on four!

http ://i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor%20Layton%20 Answers/LockedBoxANSWER. jpg

Pretty easy in that light, isn't it?

If you got this right, 30 Picarats. Wrong, you can still have 24, and I hope you managed to evade the probably lethal trap sprung by your failure.

* * *

"Here's the answer, but I'm a little worried." She confessed, "I mean, if this is what he wants us to do, this could be a trap."

The inspector nodded, then took the box and key away from her.

"Right. I'll open it, you stand back."

She took a few steps back, both worried about the inspector and anxious to see what was inside. Taking the key in his lean fingers, he slowly inserted it into the keyhole and twisted it until it was in the right position... then with trembling fingers, he lifted the lid.

...no explosion, no gas, no knives leaping out at him... he sighed in relief, and gestured for the girl to come closer: she complied. Inside the mahogany box was a small note, which Flora pulled out and unfolded, allowing the ink to feel the air for the first time in who knew how long. Looking over the paper, she started to read aloud.

"Come see Mr. Crane's amazing circus! Magic and mysteries abound in this breathtaking journey through the mind of madness! Come see elephants, jugglers, hypnotists, lion tamers, acrobats, clowns, and more! A delight for all ages!"

She handed the slip of paper to the Inspector.

"It's an advertisement... but why's it so important?"

The inspector glanced it over a few times, even checking the back for any other clues. "No pictures, no locations... just a stage-name and a list of attractions. This is useless!" He dashed the small slip of paper aside and grumbled. "Don Paolo is just taunting us!"

Flora gingerly picked the slip of paper back up and put it in her pocket.

"Well, I doubt we'd find anything else in here, we've swept the place from top to bottom... let's go."

Flora nodded and looked down at her pocket nervously: this ad, she felt, held a very important clue... but how did it relate to this case? And how does it link to Edward McOpel?

Moreover, Bella added another layer to this already deep mystery. Was it really the same woman? When did she lose her job? And how did her memory get erased?

Whatever it was, she was excited to report her findings back to her adopted father: he'd undoubtedly be interested in what it was she learned.


	13. Chapter 13

Authors Note: Wow! So many reviews! _ I'm blown away by all this, thanks guys!

So just for you, I'll put aside Pokemon Soulsilver (I've been sucked in again! Help me!) and work on chapter 13!

On another note entirely, it's spring break naow, so without being able to use the fact I'm in school as an excuse I hope to get a lot more writing done. =3

Edit: I've been told Via reviews that, apparently, there are still gramrical errors and the like in here. I've double checked it and didn't find anything, but I'm famiously bad at that, so... if you see anything don't be shy to point it out so I can fix it, k? Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**~(Luke and Layton hit the town)~**

"Just like ol' times, eh Professa?" Luke chimed as they navigated the busy streets of midday London, a rogue gust of wind forcing him to hold his hat down. Layton nodded and replied, with a smile.

"Indeed. But this isn't the same as St. Mysteria… London is a large, vast town. Finding a man in hiding will be no easy feat."

"I'm sure you of all people can do it!" Luke's optimism shone through his young face.

"Well, I certainly hope so." Layton wisely chucked back.

Finding a place to start would be the most daunting task ahead of them: Loki Publication seemed like a logical place to begin, but they still didn't know if they could trust the owner of the establishment. The area around it, however, could probably produce some leads: after all, it was safe to say Jerry must of lived somewhere nearby.

They talked to a good number of strangers about both Jerry and Edward McOpel, but everyone they spoke to for the first few hours didn't provide anything worth note. It wasn't until two frustrating hours past did someone come to them with hopeful news.

"Excuse me, sir and little sir."

The two turned around and looked a crippled old man in the eyes: garbed in filthy, old, robes, Layton assumed the man was a beggar for a living: the mug held in his wrinkly, crooked hand was testament to that, filled with a few stray coins and a one-pound note.

"What can I help you with, my good man?" Layton chimed, allowing Luke to take out his notepad and eagerly jot down anything the man might have to say.

"Well, I've heard down the grape-vine that you've been inquiring about two very peculular men, a Jerry and a Edwar McOpel. I happen to know a thing or two about the latter man…"

"Oh?" The Professor raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yes, well, before I say anything, I was wondering if you could help me with this puzzle…"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 26)~**

**~Birthday Boy~**

**25/25**

A clever little boy is having his birthday today, and one-

* * *

"-Actually," Layton interrupted, "If it's all the same to you, I think I'd like to wait on the puzzles until I hear what it is you have to say about Edward McOpel."

The man stopped in the middle of his rant and eyed the Professor suspiciously.

"What? The famous Professor Layton refusing to do a puzzle? Preposterous! You must be some faker!"

Layton sighed: as much as he loved puzzles, it would have been a welcome change of pace to get a useful tidbit of information without having to solve a brainteaser first.

"Alright. Let's hear it." The Archeologist surrendered.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 26)~**

**~Birthday Boy~**

**25/25**

(Ahem) As I was saying…

A clever little boy is having his birthday today, and one of his friends asks him how old he was. With a sly little smirk, the boy replies:

"You're twice my age when my age is cut into thirds: but your sister's three times my age when her age is doubled."

The friend replies:

"Well, that's annoying. My sister is twice my age plus one."

How old is the birthday boy, the sister, and the friend?

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A little tricky, perhaps?

The Birthday boy is Six

The friend's sister is Nine

The friend is Four

There are only tree numbers that can evenly be divided by three, in this case: 3, 6 and 9.

From there, you have to work with what the boy said about the friends sister to solve it.

If he was three, then his friend would have to be two, and his sister would also have to be 4.5… which is not only awkward but also doesn't add up. 2 x 2 + 1 = 5

If he was nine, then his friend would have to be six, and the sister would be another awkward number, 13.5. This also doesn't quite add up.

Doing all the math right, the boy HAS to be six. All that's left is to check!

If you got this right, 25 Picarats. Wrong, you're down to 18. But don't fret! I'm sure this is a temporary lull.

* * *

"Just as I'd expect from the one true Layton, eh?" The man chuckled. For all his previous aggravation at not only a fruitless investigation and a forced puzzle, the professor had to admit the brainteaser had calmed his nerves somewhat. "Now, what was it I was gonna say… Oh, right! Edward McOpel."

"Right. Lets get on with it!" Luke insisted.

"Calm your chaps, boy! You're speaking to the one and only Ivan McOpel!"

Both the boy and the professor suddenly perked up.

"Really? Are you related?" Luke pressed.

"Darn right I am! I'm that kid's father. And I think I got a inklin as to where he's been, and what's been up the past few days."

Layton raised an eyebrow. "Well, please, sir. Don't hold anything back, tell us everything you know."

"Sure thing, Professor. Anythin' for you. Now, my boy Edward was a clever lad ever sense he was a youngin… he had his sights set on bein' a cat-burglar… but those dreams faded away, see…"

The man's eyes flashed with the memories, but not soon after a more somber, sober expression passed over his lids. At the same time, however, he slowly extended his mug out to the men, inviting a tip or two for the advice.

"Well, he got the next best thing, though. Spying. He got himself a government job and started sellin' secrets to Spain."

"Oh, my…" Luke and Layton explained in unison, but it was Layton who spoke alone after that. "That's quite the crime. I take it he was caught?"

"Yeah, it took em' a while but they found him out. Ruined this family's reputation, it did. I lost my job and made me live in this mess. He was jailed for some time but he was let go after a few years… the secrets were small and his time as a spy was brief… that, and he was a stubborn fellow…"

The man leaned back and pressed his other hand against his cripplingly old spine.

"The brat wouldn't cooperate with no one. Too strong. Had the willpower of a rock, he did. They interrogated em' till their cheeks turned blue, but he wouldn't testify. But anyway, after being let go he was havin' a hard time findin' work too, but eventually he was kidnapped, as you know…"

The man straightened himself out and looked both of them in the eyes.

"Well, I was never close to my boy after he turned rogue on me, so I can't say we've kept in touch. But I can say is that if you're lookin' for him, you might want to check the abandoned mill out by the Thames. He used to use that shack to protect himself from the snow in the winter. Maybe he's there."

Layton took some time to absorb all that information, then tipped his hat in the man's direction, his standard sign of gratitude.

"Thank you, my good man," Layton praised as he dropped a few pounds into the old man's trembling (and expectantly outstretched) mug: an act of charity was never below a gentleman. As the old hoot hobbled away, Luke expressed some distain.

"He had that grubby cup out the whole time, waitin' for something. Are you sure we can trust him?"

"I do, actually. This testimonial makes a lot of senses… plus, it gives us a lead we didn't have before. Besides, if he was simply after money he wouldn't of bothered us with that puzzle."

"I suppose that's true… well, what are we waitin' for, Professa?" Luke lightened up his expression. "Let's get to that mill!"

Layton was a well-off gentleman, but he was far from wealthy: all during the ride over to the mill in question he found himself lamenting how much he was losing taking all these taxi's across town: they were burning quite a hole in his pocket. But there was no cost too high for justice, especially in monetary terms.

When they reached the mill (after thanking and paying their unusually gracious cab-driver) they took to surveying the area: Like most parts of London, if there was an abandoned building in the vicinity than the district must have been poorer. There was a rather untidy feel to the street, with garbage hazardously strewn about the cobbled streets, and every crevice was occupied by a beggar or a con-artist.

The Professor stared at the mill for a few seconds before speaking up.

"That building is quite nice, I must say… for being abandoned it seems miraculously in-tact. I wouldn't be surprised if a whole family of homeless people could occupy it."

Luke scratched his chin for a moment, then added "You know, Professa, it wouldn't be improbable to assume that he shared this building with other less-fortunate folk. Do you think that someone who stayed with him would still be in there?"

Layton nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking, Luke my boy. Let's get going."

As they approached the building, though, something caught the professor's eye: a street-vendor, with old, yellow cards placed upon his tiny roadside stand in a peculiar manner, convincing a man to give his "game" a shot. The stand was much like an old, creaky and worn shack with a large, open window and a sign crudely nailed to the top. Upon seeing the owner of this establishment attempt to goad the man into playing the game, Layton mumbled disapprovingly and, in an effort to perhaps save this poor man his money, keenly listened in to the rules.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 27)~**

**~A cheater's puzzle~**

**~45/45~**

Look at the link below to see how the cards are placed.

http:/ /i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor% 20Layton%20Questions /CON-MANpuzzle-1. png

There are nine cards, 1-9. Each number shows up once and no numbers are repeated. The actual number of each card is hidden

When the top card's number is subtracted by the bottom cards number, you get the total shown below: 1, 2, 2, and 1.

The card in the middle is not subtracted by anything, and for all practical purposes is excluded from the formula. Now, the card shark asks the man what the middle card's number is: the man guesses incorrectly and the card shark reveals that the only number that can be in the middle is five: because all the other numbers are needed in order to create 1, 2, 2, and 1 after all the subtraction.

Can you explain how this statement is false? This is a tricky one, so I included some hints.

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Hint one:

It's simple enough to find what the basic problem is: something card-shark said is incorrect, but not necessarily the answer. But how? You can probably think of a reason off the top of your head, but then could you prove it?

A little extra bonus: the order 1221 isn't important. It could be 1122 or 2112 or anything like that, and the results would still be the same.

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Hint two:

The card shark is incorrect, but not because of his answer: the number five can go into the middle to make the subtraction true. However, it's not the ONLY number that you could put in the middle. Think about this carefully: don't bother with guess-and-check.

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Hint three

Alright, this is your last hint.

Look at the numbers used in the equation: 1 through 9. Count them out individually: what does five have in common with other numbers? And what other qualities do those numbers have?

It's easy enough to find out in this pretense: but you also need to explain why this is the case. Don't give up! This hint did half the work for you!

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Bear with me on this, I'll need to do some explaining for it to make sense.

The con-artist's cards are set up so that 9 – 8 = 1; 3 – 1 =2; 4 – 2 = 2; and 7 – 6 = 1

If you were to try to put an EVEN number in the middle (Thereby removing it from the numbers that could be used in the subtraction) then you couldn't create the 1221 answer. But you CAN put any ODD number in the middle. Why?

Count one through nine, keeping track of the number of evens and odds. Notice something? There are FIVE odd numbers but only FOUR evens! You need to subtract one odd and one even to get a 1, and you need to subtract two evens or odds to get a 2.

If you put an even number in the middle, then you're stuck with five odds and three evens: this is uneven and you'll find it impossible to subtract any combination of them to create two 2's and two 1's. But if you put an odd number in the middle, you have four odds and four evens, just the right amount you need to make the 1221 answer.

If you got this right, congratulations! No con-artist in the street will be getting the better of you! 45 Picarats! If you used one hint, you're still pretty clever and get 42. Two hints, that'll make it 40, and a third (Which did most of the work for you) will make you're score 37. If you just plain got it wrong, you still get 30 Picarats.

* * *

Just as the poor, humiliated man was about to part way's with his precious money, Layton intervened, pointing out the flaw of the street-puzzler's question: it was hardly his place to do so, but as a gentleman he couldn't let a poor man get robbed if he could do something about it.

Upon hearing the Professor oust him, the con-man sneered.

"Oy, wait a second. You're that Professor Layton scum everyone gushes on about, eh? Thinkin' yourself so clever n' high and mighty… (grumbles) what's a fat cat like you doin' in my part of town?"

Well, you couldn't be loved by everyone, he supposed. No reason to get upset.

"I'm here looking for someone… and while you may not be keen on the idea of helping me, if you would answer a question I have it might save a few lives."

He wasn't going to interview the man for information in the first place, but something at the back of his mind was nagging him: his intuition was acting up again.

"N' why should I care about a few measly lives? Less people clutterin' the streets as far as I care. Now shoo, and don't scare off no more of me regulars again!"

"How could you say such a cold thing?" Luke chimed in. "How would you feel if you were killed?"

The Con-artist and Layton turned inquisitively at Luke, who, realizing the somewhat faulty reasoning behind such an argument, turned beet red and shrank behind the professor.

"Bright lad you got there." The Con artist commented snidely.

"He's simply flustered by your attitude, Sir. It's not often you see someone so unconcerned about human welfare."

"Psh. Human's. Not a single one's done me any good in my miserable life, ecept the one's I con' first."

"…does the name Edward McOpel mean anything to you, perchance?"

Dead silence was the only response the professor got: it was a random question, appearing to be pulled from thin air, but Luke's comment made Layton notice something, and he wanted to make sure it wasn't just his imagination.

"…why would you think I know anyone by that name?"

Layton gestured to the stand the man was standing in.

"This tiny abode you've built yourself seems quite old, and much more elegant than the other stands such con-artists use. It would appear, based on the shacks appearance, you've been on this corner for quite some time: moving such a building would not only be impractical but it would also be nearly impossible to keep all the worn and tired pieces of wood intact."

The man was quiet for a long time.

"True as that may be, it doesn't mean I know an Edward McOpel…"

"But do you?"

"…well maybe I do, Mr. Smarty-hat, buh why would I tell you a darned thing?"

Layton smiled and tipped his hat knowingly. "I suppose you're right. Come, Luke. Let's go home."

As they walked away, Luke pulled on Layton's Jacket and demanded his attention. "Oy! Professa! Where we going?"

Layton smiled.

"Did you notice something, Luke? That stand was in fairly miserable shape: but the man himself seems to get a good deal of business if he has regulars instead of simply customers. Why couldn't he keep the shack in better repair… unless he was gone for a length of time? Likewise, I'm sure you noticed that whenever something caught that man off guard, his accent wavered. He was using a fake voice… which means he has something to hide… or someone to hide from."

"Are you sayin' what I think you're saying?"

Layton nodded.

"I hypothesize that man… was really Edward McOpel himself."


	14. Chapter 14

Authors notes: There's good news and bad news. The good news is I've finally finalized the story, as it were: things were a bit more malleable at the beginning but now I have a solid idea what's going on and how it all ties together.

Well, I mean, I always knew what was going on, but… gah, it's a writers thing.

Regardless, the bad news is that kind of makes the story less interesting for me… but I'll keep coming out with new chapters. After all, this story has at least two fans! Don't wanna disappoint em'!

* * *

**~Chapter 14~**

**~A Trip to the Clouds~**

Previously, before the gang set out on their respective paths, they made an agreement to meet in the park a few blocks away from Layton's home: after all, whatever they discovered they wanted to keep a secret from their foes in this game. Flora was at the park first, fidgeting to herself as she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of the other two: it was only a ten minute wait before the other two joined her on a bench underneath a marvelous oak tree. Fitting with the mood, the sky overhead was an overcast gray, invading the blue skies that dominated earlier in the morning.

"It's good to see everyone's alright." Layton commented as he placed his arms on his legs in a contemplative manner. "Now, Flora, lets hear what it is you've learned."

"In my investigation, I discovered two things," she spoke, seeming to have rehearsed exactly what it was she was going to say before the two males appeared, "One, I found Bella: she was the owner of the apartment building Don Paolo was using… What makes this curious is the fact that she did not remember me, and she didn't even remember working at Loki Publication. It's like she was brainwashed…"

Layton took careful note of that.

Flora nodded, having thought of such a thing before. "I also got this." She pulled out the advertisement and handed it to Layton. "It was in a box in Don Paolo's hideout. He used it to gain some insight into the case, but… I'm not quite sure how."

The Professor's eyes glazed over the paper once before seeing the connection himself, but then handed the paper to Luke for further examination.

"I see. Anything else?"

"No."

"Well, let's go over what me and Luke discovered before anything else. Now, we learned two things as well: Edward McOpel was a spy for the Spaniards, which was how he was sent to jail: soon after escaping, he was captured. We also had the good fortune to run into Edward McOpel himself, running a small gambling shack in a part of town… we didn't get to officially investigate anything but we do know he's in hiding now, so he's scared of someone."

Luke, realizing this was a golden opportunity, pounced Layton with a question that'd been bothering him for a while.

"Professa, why didn't we interview him? Why leave him alone?"

Layton smiled in his usual knowing way.

"If we had ousted him there, not only would he not tell us anything, but he would have gotten paranoid and hid somewhere new after we left. This way, when we really need him, we know where to find him."

"Plus, if he couldn't remember anything, like Mr. Palmer said, than we wouldn't learn much from him anyway." Flora chimed in. "He's probably only in hiding in the first place because of the assassination attempt."

Layton grinned at her brightly. "Very good, Flora! You're getting excellent at this!"

The obligatory female blushed meekly and shook her head humbly, a dire attempt to shake off the attention she was getting from the two men.

"So now, we're presented with two questions: what's our next move… and where we sleep tonight."

The sun wasn't out, so they couldn't reference that, but it wasn't too far-fetched to assume it was sometime in the mid-afternoon.

"Well, it might be just me, but I think a re-visiting of Loki Publication is in order." Luke exclaimed in an effort to redeem himself for his previous question. "If Bella is gone and can't remember anything, then something must of happened there."

"Capital idea, Luke." Layton praised, "We have a few more hours of daylight, I imagine. We can get to Loki's if we hurry."

And so the three set out in a generally unremarkable manner to Loki Publication. Upon their arrival to the building, they found that the door was locked and a notice had been nailed to the door… an eviction notice.

"My, what's this?" The Professor tugged the paper gently to free it from the door, then examined it further.

"_Loki Publication has failed to pay it's rent four months in a row. Henceforth, they have been disband."_

"That's certainly direct." Flora observed, peering at the paper over Layton's broad shoulders.

"Indeed it is… I suppose it makes sense that it was established four months ago, around the time of the kidnappings, but… failure to pay rent? Icabob is a rich man, you'd think he could of covered this cost… unless…."

Layton closed his eyes and examined things further. "But then again, an assassin did find this hideout, which means the other's must know of it as well… it wouldn't be rash to assume that they relocated to help protect themselves."

"But what about Bella?" the children pried.

"I don't know… the employee's weren't supposed to know about Loki's true purpose, at least, that's what Mr. Palmer told me. Could he have told them, then asked them to leave to protect themselves? Or is something more sinister afoot…?"

"What do you mean?" The two chimed again.

* * *

**~(Time to play Detective!)~**

**10/10**

Layton is greatly concerned about something: have you noticed it as well?

**What does Bella and the kidnapped victims have in common?**

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That's right!

**It seems like both Bella and the victims had their memories erased somehow!**

* * *

"Wow… so you're saying this builds on our suspicions of Mr. Palmer, then?" Luke pondered aloud as he took a few more notes.

"Right. If one of his former employee's is suffering a similar symptom as one of the escaped prisoners, it certainly is starting to look like Mr. Palmer's the real villain here."

"But then why did he want us to FIND the person responsible? Why draw attention to himself at all?" Flora insisted, somewhat hesitant to jump on this particular bandwagon.

In these particular circumstances, Flora's argument was a good one: after all, the police was only coming up with dead ends, and there was no real danger of being discovered or needing any distractions to keep the law-enforcers busy. It was this fact that really kept the seeds of doubt firmly embedded into the Professors mind.

"Wait!" Luke said with a surprised tone as he held the paper, "There's something written on the back of this! It looks like a puzzle!"

Layton smiled.

"I suspected Mr. Palmer would leave something like this behind. He probably wants to tell me where he is by hiding the location in a puzzle, rather than saying outright and allowing the assassin's to figure it out. I'll let you solve it, Luke..."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 28)~**

**~Hidden Messages 4~**

**25/25**

The following puzzle was placed on the back of the paper:

_could _

__loose___nose _

___out __integer _

____up_never_

_____detatch_

_APpARenTly, you need to look for My lEtter… doN'T try Something not between c and b. Take its shape to solve your riddle. _

What is the secret message? This is a little abstract, so there's a single hint: taking it will only cost you one Picarat.

(Oh, and Ignore the _ things, I just need them to make the shape)

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Hint 1:

I knew you'd look at this.

There are really two puzzles here: the oddly shaped series of words and the sentence with random letters capitalized: the sentence itself is an easy puzzle, but it's also gives a clue as to how to solve the answer for the random words.

There is no letter between B and C, right? Well, the order that the two letters are listed is important.

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This was a irregular one, I'll grant you. However, were you clever enough to figure it out?

"Cloud Nine Apartments"

"Apartments" is easy enough to find: all the capital letters in the sentence made the word. Anyone could of solved that. But moving beyond that, how did you find Cloud Nine?

The letter between C and B is V: just look at your keyboard! Using that, look at the shape of letters above… it does look like a V, right? Well, that's not enough. The reason the words are in the shape of a V is because it makes the first letters of each word look like the shape of a V as well. The first letter of the first words are Cloud, and the first letters of the second words (and the second letter of the last word) make "nine."

25 for the lot. Like I promised, you only get one off for taking the hint, so its 24 for that. Failure will give you 20 Picarats still.

* * *

"So…" Luke proudly announced the answer, "Mr. Palmer is at Cloud Nine Apartments." With a sly smile on his face, he tucked the eviction notice into his back pocket: to prevent any further inquiries by suspicious people or peoples.

"Good… we should go there immediately… but would either of you know where this place is?"

Both children shook their noggins solemnly.

"I thought so. Well, a cab-driver should know…"

With a great deal of hesitation, the poor professor signaled for a cab.

The apartment building was certainly a far cry from its namesake, but it was decent, as public homing went. There was electricity, plumbing, and rats were few and far between, the few you did spot seemed to be of a better breed than your average street rat, and whenever you saw one they always moved in a manner as to say "I say, old chap, would you mind horribly if I gnawed at your toes for a spell?"

Naturally, no amount of courteous asking would ever result in a accepted foot-biting.

But still, rats and dust and poor lighting aside, it was distinctly a upper middle-class abode, which spoke a great deal as to Mr. Palmer's character and social standing: it appeared he had friends in rich places while he himself merely had enough to live a moderately comfortable life.

Asking the owner of the apartment for Mr. Palmer, they were directed to room 353: a quick thank you and a knock on the door later, and the trio found themselves seated firmly on the hard, uncomfortable guest sofa of the mysterious Mr. Palmer: his home was unremarkable, a cross between a pack rat and a neat-freak, every flat surface was covered with nick-knacks and namesakes, but they were all so orderly one couldn't help but get the impression of an over-crowded museum which wasn't sure what was relevant and what was simply rubbish, so everything was treated like priceless articles.

A cup of steaming instant tea was in each of their hands (consumed by Flora, ignored by Luke, and nursed by Layton to give the impression of appreciation) and one Mr. Palmer was seated across from them in a seat that looked much more comfortable than the rocks-in-a-sack couch they were seated on.

"So, tell, what have you learned?" He spoke eagerly: clearly, he put aside his itching curiosity long enough so as to make him seem like an accommodating host, but once all the pleasantries out of the way he was quick to dash aside his patience in exchange for faster answers.

"Not as much as we'd like, ultimately." The two children sandwiching the Professor were silent: they knew that their mentor was going to have to phrase things carefully to get everything he wanted out of this exchange, and any unhelpful- or worse, detrimental- interruptions on their part could spell disaster for this case, which as it stood was as intricate and fragile as a crystalline figurine. "I find it curious you were evicted at this time, it was very convent: I assume it was just a cover for your move."

"Move? No, I'm afraid not. We've simply disbanded. When the assassin struck, we- that is to say, I- knew that it wasn't safe to harbor these mysterious fugitives in the building, so I took it upon myself to fake the eviction and end Loki Publication."

"I see. So, with Loki Publication out of the picture, I have to ask, what is your involvement in the case now? Have you contacted Lanks or Icabob over this development yet?"

"Yes. Lanks says I did the right thing, and I haven't heard back from Icabob yet. He's terribly overworked, he manages all of the halfway houses on his free time… he's a busy man regardless, but he takes the time out of his hectic schedule to see to the welfare of those poor souls."

"I see. What is his occupation, anyway?"

He took a forced sip of the instant tea: a insult to his complex tastes, but a affront he'd have to forgive.

"Oh, he owns a series of businesses, mostly in manufacturing. He's the one who printed the Loki Publication books to make our company look legitimate. Why do you ask?"

This was tricky. Layton wasn't sure if Mr. Palmer knew he had met Icabob yet… it'd be best to respond in a vague-yet-satisfying way.

"I'd like to know as much as possible about all the people involved in this case. I don't suppose you could tell me more about him? Perhaps how you met?"

Mr. Palmer shifted uncomfortably, probably due to the arousal of bad memories.

"How we met? Well, he's certainly a better off gentleman than I, so I suppose you could say our meeting was by chance. In our heyday we were both working the same job, and we just happened to get along… we became friends days before he struck it rich."

"How did he strike it rich?"

"He was the son of the owner of his business, and his father suffered a tragic accident… well, he inherited the establishment and didn't hesitate to sell it and start a more upscale business."

"So what was this business you both worked at?"

He was fidgeting in his seat quite a bit now: indication that he was lying? Or was this just a unhappy part of his life? More importantly, how could the Professor tell?

"We were both employed at a traveling circus… I was a clown."

It was clear now why he was so humiliated at the memory: a clown isn't exactly the most prestigious of jobs a gentleman could claim to have. It also explained Flora's advertisement: it was safe to say they both worked at Mr. Crane's circus… but while those concepts fit together nicely, it still left them with a large question: how is this important? What did Don Paolo see in this they didn't?

"Ah… well, I'm terribly sorry to make you embarrassed, my good man, but may I ask a few more questions?"

"I'll do anything in my power so long as it solves this case."

"Wonderful. I wish everyone was this cooperative, we'd have much less crime on the London streets. Now, what can you tell me about Icabob and Lanks? Everything you know."

The man was silent for a brief moment: Layton supposed it would be hard to shake the feeling that you were betraying you friends by telling all to a detective. But knowing (or rather, hoping) that they were all good men, the finally spoke up.

"Lanks I'm dreadfully unknowledgeable about. He's done me a few favors but all through the mail, I have yet to see the man face-to-face. He says he's working with Icabob, and Icabob agrees and says I can trust the man, but sometimes they have conflicting accounts of how things should happen. It's rather confusing."

Layton took careful note of this.

"Icabob… is a strange man. He's eccentric, and enjoys collecting things, which is why he co-founded the Black Dog society. Strangely enough, he's a member of parliament but he's never seemed like much of a patriot to me… he takes regular vacations to France and always talk's about how much nicer it is over there."

"I see. May I ask why you haven't been invited to the Black Dog Society?"

"Oh, I have. I just turned them down. I didn't feel my meager collection of ivory statues really would have contributed to their mission. Besides, I'm fairly sure Mr. Harrison doesn't like me that much."

Luke, Layton, and Flora froze.

"Excuse me…" Layton spoke after a while, "Mr. Harrison? Do you know his first name?"

"Roark. The president of the club. Roark Harrison."

Layton closed his eyes and mulled over this development: was Roark related to Teresa, the creator of the sky-prison? Harrison wasn't a particularly common last name… the possibility was too great and the connection to the case far too tempting for the Professor to simply ignore.

"I see. Well, Mr. Palmer, you've done me a great service. We're closer now than ever before at solving this case."

"Wonderful!" the man grinned exuberantly, "What have you learned?"

"All in time, my good sir." Layton smiled. "I need more evidence before I draw anything definitive from this case, but rest assured you'll know when I've solved it. Now, we must be on our way."

As Layton stood up (and the children followed) Luke whispered to the Professor.

"Is that all? Isn't there more we can ask? Like maybe about Bella?"

Layton nodded.

"Yes, there is. But remember, we don't know if we can trust him, he's lied to us before. I can only take his word on questions he doesn't think are relevant, or things he thinks aren't directly related to him."

"Ahh…"

With a quick goodbye the three were off: not only to think things over but also to prepare themselves for tonight… after all, they needed somewhere to sleep.

But after the night, they'd have a brand new lead to follow up on: Roark, the founder of the Black Dogs, was due for a interview.


	15. Chapter 15

Authors notes: YAY! Well, it's time for the interview with Roark. Does anyone have any guesses on who the culprit is? Have we even met the mastermind yet? Who knows?

…well… I do. BUT STILL!

Try to enjoy. I know sometimes the task is taxing, but I do this all for you guys.

FYI, I was only able to edit this once, and even then it was pretty quick n' sloppy. Hope it doesn't make your eye's bleed out.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**~Ancestor ~**

Obviously, connecting Roark with the missing person case was a bit of a longshot, especially considering a joint last name isn't necessarily grounds for involvement. But, as leads went, it was a decent one, and it was one Layton might as well follow as long as he was obligated to go to the Black Dog meeting later that day anyway. Besides, another encounter with Icabob was always a welcome one. Perhaps the Professor could sway him into revealing more about this case and how he became so heavily involved in this operation.

Seeing as they didn't want to risk sleeping in their home, they had to resort to spending the night at a hotel, deepening the drain on Layton's wallet. It would appear that, thus far, this case was one of the most costly of Layton's ventures, and his generosity and determination for justice was certainly being tested, seeing as there was no promise for reward or compensation upon this cases completion.

But at the very least the hotel was comfortable and the bedding was soft, so the three had a easy sleep, even though the Professor had to share a mattress with Luke.

The morning was a slow one, each person hesitant to pull their bodies out of the folds of the bed, but they eventually managed to force their way out of the welcoming embrace of the furniture and get themselves ready for another day on the case. There was a complementary breakfast prepared for them in the lobby (a continental breakfast, as it were), but not a single member of their party could find any appetite to motivate them to the ground level of this building.

"So," The small-eyed man informed his assistants, "I'll be going to the Black Dogs and interviewing Roark Harrison and Icabob, perhaps they have another lead."

"It seems all we're getting are leads…" Luke whined as he was brushing his thick locks, "We need more clues. The sooner we can solve this, the better."

"We have a few clues… some testimonials, the break in at Loki, Bella's memory, the advertisements. I'm sure you've got at least a vague idea of what's going on, don't you?" Flora insisted, turning towards her father figure as she adjusted her earrings.

"I do, but I'm not going to say anything yet. I believe it was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who wrote 'you need to twist theories to suit facts, not facts to suit theories'. It's like a puzzle involving pegs and strings: you can move the string but not the pegs."

There was a touch of silence while a mischievous grin spread across Layton's lips.

"You know, I'm feeling a bit drowsy today. Perhaps one of you knows a puzzle involving pegs and string that could wake my brain up."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 29)~**

**~Shapes made of String~**

**15/15**

Below you see a picture: the red line indicates a string, and the black dots indicate the pegs that are used to hold the shape together.

http: . com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor%20Layton% 20Questions/StringandPeg. jpg

Now, it's possible to make a similar shape as this with LESS pegs than the one's used now. How many pegs do you need to make this same shape?

Hint: think outside the box with this one.

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Really easy once you figure the trick out, eh?

The answer is zero! You don't need ANY pegs to make that shape with the string! All you have to do is lay the string out on the ground!

This was another lateral thinking puzzle. Do you find these annoying? If you got this right, 15 Picarats. If you get it wrong, you'll take a heavy toll and only get 7.

I know that seems unfair, but the time is fast approaching were you'll need these babies! You'd better sharpen that brain of yours!

* * *

Luke removed the comb from his hair and placed it gently on the marble countertop.

"I don't get you, Professa. Why keep doing puzzles if they're so easy for you? You did that one without so much as blinking!"

Normally, it wasn't in Luke's character to question his professors obsessions, but such a punctual response prompted the question from his gray, fleshy brain.

"Puzzle's, along with being great fun, keep my mind sharp. Nothing worries me quite like losing my wit in old age. Besides, they help me pay attention to details, which I use in my cases. And finally, well… I just adore them!" he said, emphasizing the last sentence with an almost childlike glee.

"Yeah, well, It's sure no fun telling them to you if you solve them so quick…"

Unlike the interviews for the open position, which took place around lunchtime, this meeting was set to begin around seven o'clock. The schedule was also more solid: a hour of informal socializing at the club, then three hours to soak in the glory of the Royal Orchestra that was showing at a local, extravagant theater, then another hour at the end to discuss what they just heard back at the club: they weren't set to adjourn until midnight.

Quite the hefty schedule, but many opportunities were present: for one, as much as Layton wanted to hear the fierce strings and the proud bass, he could sneak out of the orchestra and investigate the building with the hours he was granted. Likewise, the two hours of discussion would give him lots of time to chat with Icabob and Roark, and hopefully get another hint or two.

It took a long time for the clock to toll six-thirty, the time Layton decided to get moving. Before he left, however, he took the time to get on one knee and look his cohorts in the eye.

"Now, It's important that you don't follow me. Remember the gatekeeper? I don't know what he wanted with Flora but I doubt it's anything noble."

The two children nodded solemnly.

"Excellent. I won't be coming back until much later, don't stay up and wait for me."

"It's not like we'll be able to sleep with you gone, Professa…" Luke sighed as he moped around: he didn't like being left out of the investigation once again.

"Keep your chin up, Luke. I'll tell you everything I learn."

And with that, he walked out the door.

"…After which I said 'Normally, yes, but In this case it's my wife!'"

The crowd around Roark erupted in laughter, Layton included, as he finally reached the conclusion to his rather long joke. It had been harder than Layton had intended to get Roark alone, as he was the center of attention it seemed at most of these meetings, amusing a eager crowd of upper-class gentlemen with quips and anecdotes. It was a higher breed of humor than Layton was generally accustomed too (his quintessential comedy experience was derived from the half-baked joke concepts produced by his students) and he was having a hard time laughing hard enough to fit in.

That, and he was constantly on the lookout for an opportunity to steal Roarks attention for any amount of time… alternatively, he could of spent some of this time talking to Icabob, but the man was apparently absent.

Luckily, it wasn't long before he heard a ruckus at the door.

"Florence! What in the blazes are you doing?"

The accusation was loud, but the reply was much softer, so it evaded the prying ears of the men in the lobby. After a few more moments, another yell echoed out.

"It's a disgusting habit and I don't care if you're outside! You'll not be doing that again, you hear?"

Within moments, a beet-red Icabob stormed in, demanding the attention of the once jolly crowd.

"The blasted gatekeeper was smoking! Almost made me choke!"

"Now, now, calm down, Icabob." Roark smiled. "We all have our vices."

"He can smoke until his face turns blue, for all I care! Just not in front of the building!"

"Yes, well… I'll give him a good talking too." Roark said, finalizing his stance and ending the conversation before Icabob could complain any more. Begrudgingly, the man handed his coat to another employee and joined the crowd, trying to calm down enough so he could have intelligent conversation with his peers. However, before he could get too absorbed into the crowd, Layton confronted him.

"Excuse me, but could I borrow you for a few moments? I'd like to ask a few more questions."

"Oh, sure." He huffed, taking a deep breath to help him relax. "I'm sorry, the last thin I mean to do is ruin everyone's night with my ramblings."

"It's fine."

Layton escorted his elder to a chair and they sat down, a good distance away from the crowd: far enough so that their words couldn't be heard amongst all the other small talk, but close enough to avoid suspicion.

"I talked to Mr. Palmer. Apparently, you got your fortune selling your father's business."

"Oh, yes. I loved papa, but I couldn't live his nomad lifestyle."

"May I ask what you did in that circus?"

He turned his eyes away and looked at the ceiling in a reminiscent way.

"I juggled… fed the animals. Light work, papa didn't like me doing anything too dangerous. Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity, I suppose. You never know what will be relevant. Now, continuing, you know of Edward McOpel, yes? A previous escapee you helped."

"…yes, the name rings a bell. I hope he's all right…"

"He's fine. He had to thwart off an assassination attempt, however… tell me, is it often your escapee's are targeted by assassins?"

He seemed physically shocked and mortified by this.

"What? How? N-No, I've never heard of something like this happening… I'll have to ask Palmer about it, I believe Edward was in his care."

Layton raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, well, on that note… I'd like to ask to see Lanks. Could you get into contact with him and tell him I'd like to meet him?"

At this, all of his previous shame suddenly turned into a strange sort of amusement.

"I'm afraid not. He's asked to remain out of the spotlight in this operation, he's terribly paranoid he'll be kidnapped next. Not even Mr. Palmer has talked to the man. I can take any questions you have and tell them to him, however.

"I see. No, I'll do without." Layton mulled things over… how much more should he ask a suspect in the case? How much more could he hope to learn? He found himself staggered at the moment, not quite sure what step to take next… he didn't know of Icabob knew about the retirement of Loki Publication yet.

…He'd best leave it alone. He wasn't sure who he trusted more, but one of them was probably telling the truth, and he felt Palmer was being more honest. He'd have to trust his gut.

"Well, if you can't help me with Lanks, perhaps I could get Roark alone for a bit. I'm finding it hard to talk to him alone, he's so popular."

He let out a hardy chuckle.

"Why, certainly!"

While Icabob was fetching Roark, Layton couldn't help but notice how unusual his first name was… but ignoring that moot point, he was delighted to find Icabob have much more success than he did in getting the president's attention.

"I hear from Icabob you wanted to talk a bit. What's the matter?"

It wasn't often anything he had to say needed to be taken with any level of confidentiality, so he wasn't sure how to react to this: he was feeling somewhat important, however, as it certainly sounded like the great Professor Layton needed his help. Albeit with some resistance, Icabob was excused so as to keep Roark's comment's secret.

"I'm very glad you decided to speak with me." Layton started, trying to lighten the mood, "I know you must feel somewhat pressured."

"Well, we've a short time before the symphony, so yes, I'd say your right."

"This won't take long." Layton reassured, then continued. "I've come to the knowledge that you're last name is Harrison… any relation to Teresa Harrison?"

The man's face grew inexplicitly pale.

"Um… yes… she was my great Grandmother, but… lord, I havn't told a soul. Why do you ask?"

"I fear her work before her death is currently being abused… I don't suppose you know anything of her work? Her personality? Anything?"

He started to fidget with his collar, fingering it up this way and that, a sign of being uncomfortable for sure. But what sort of shame was there to be had? She was a genius, a national hero. Was there some dark side to her history?

"I fear I'm regretfully unknowledgeable on her personal history… I know nothing you couldn't find in a book."

"I see…"

Layton paused.

"…I don't suppose," he continued, pressing a subject the man he was speaking too clearly didn't want pressed, "That someone else has ever asked about her?"

"Why, ye-"

In a sudden display, his eye's glazed over for but a moment, before coming into focus.

"N-no. You're the first to inquire."

The Professor was caught aback by this sudden display followed by the change of heart, but it made sense, all at the same time. He downplayed its real relevance, however, when he spoke to Roark again.

"I see. Well, you've been a great help regardless. Now, shouldn't we get a move on?"

"Ah, yes! How dreadfully uncouth of me, I've lost track of the time! Come, gentlemen! The Royal Orchestra awaits!"

The men quickly assembled into a group and hurried out the door, Layton slipping out of the mass of men and hid around a corner to avoid detection: all the men were rich enough to afford their own personal drivers… Layton didn't have that luxury at his disposal, and the men knew this fact: they'd all assume he got in his own car and wouldn't suspect anything fowl should he be late: merely that in a burst of stupidity he had somehow lost his way. Nevertheless, a momentary loss of prestige was a small price to pay to bring this case to a happy conclusion.

And now, he was alone in the Black Dog Society, and free to investigate the going-on's of their club more closely.

On the surface, the building was clean: no doors were locked and no hallways branched in unusual directions. The attic and basement were nothing worth note, either. It was almost at the point where Layton worried he had hit a dead end when suddenly, something caught his eye: a empty picture frame. How unusual that someplace such as this would display such a thing, especially when it was hung in a room full of pictures. It stuck out, and made the Professor wonder what it's purpose was…

…or what it might be hiding.

* * *

**~Puzzle 30~**

**~The Missing Symbol~**

**40/40**

You see four symbols lined up like so.

http: . com/albums/nn67/Pocru /Professor% 20Layton%20Questions/TheFinalSymbol. jpg

Draw the next symbol in the pattern.

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Tricky? The Answer is below!

http: . com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor% 20Layton%20Answers/TheFinalSymbolAnswer. jpg

As you can see, each symbol is actually a number, flipped 90 degree's, with a mirror reflection on the Y axis.

This puzzle is a hard one, granted, especially with so few prompts. Clever eyes and a cleverer head will save the day, however. 40 Picarats for finding the correct answer: 30 for a wrong one.

* * *

The four picture's next to the painting seemed to be the clue, and the answer was a strange one: by tracing the symbol that needed to be next on the wall, something mechanical clicked: triggering a segment of the wall to recede, than slide to the side, revealing a hidden, dark passage. Layton was surprised, and at the same time, excited that a potential lead was In his face.

Would the passage lead to information pertaining to the case? Or something entirely irrelevant?

Only a journey into the darkness would tell…


	16. Chapter 16

Authors notes: I'm quite fond of this chapter, and especially fond of puzzle 32. The Problem is I think I lose a lot of the intended urgency when I have to spend so long explaining how the puzzle works. So I'd suggest you find some really epic music and listen to it while you try to figure it out: It'll be a lot funnier that way!

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**~(Chapter 16)~**

**~Cat and Mouse~**

It was dark. There wasn't a single source of light to illuminate the black halls, so the Professor actually had to leave for a moment and come back with an antique lamp that had been placed nearby. To his delight, he also found a box of matches adjacent to it, and that the lamp had already been filled up with oil. From this, he could safely deduce that this lamp was the way the owner of this secret passage navigated the twisting labyrinth… and that it was used regularly.

Back in the underground chasm, he started his search: it was, in fact, a maze of sorts, many passages leading to dead ends, while others lead to more crossroads, creating a maze that could easily rival a Minotaur's home. But it was peaceful, at the very least. Had he been the type to been scared of enclosed, dark spaces, he would of certainly been on edge: but being the logical man he was, he was comfortable no matter how eerie it got. After all, I was so quiet down here that the only sound that reached his ears were the sound of his own footsteps, and he reckoned not even a cat could wander these halls without making at least a LITTLE sound.

As he navigated the halls, he started to notice something: there were no visual cues anywhere to guide lost souls, which meant that the owner had to use his memory to navigate the hallways…

* * *

**~(Puzzle 31)~**

**~Layton? Lost?~**

**30/30**

The maze is very large, and easily as old- if not older- than the building built over it. There are no markings on the rock walls or on the tiled ground to guide the professor, as stated before,

But the Professor was not lost, oh no. In fact, he knew exactly how to navigate the halls.

How? For your benefit, there's a single clue to help with your thinking.

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Hint 1

This is a logic puzzle: think like a detective.

The owner of this maze follows a very strict path, which means that, outside the path he uses, all the other potential roads go entirely untouched.

What would the unused roads have that the used roads wouldn't?

Bonus hint: it is almost always somewhere in your house.

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Old hallways, right? What happens when something is untouched for months upon months?

Dust!

If the person who owns this place only took one route back and fourth between wherever it is this maze leads too, then that passageway would be the only one used, and henceforth the only one where the dust would be kicked around and not settle in!

If you got this right with no help, 30 picarats! Using the hint drops your score to 25, and if you got it wrong, not only are you horribly lost but you only get 20 picarats.

* * *

Carefully examining the floors of each branching passageway he came across allowed him to navigate the hall with a great deal of ease. Left, right, right, left, straight, left, right, left, left, left, straight, right, straight, straight…

He was very deep inside the maze now, and the air was getting stale and suffocating, the lamp clearly absorbing what little air there was to be had: In self preservation, Professor turned the lamp down slightly, then walked a little more until he reached a new crossroad.

…but at this one, he paused.

Not one, not two, but three of the passages were dust free. Could that mean there were three different rooms at the end of the twisting halls? Or…

If the lamp was eating up all the air down here, then why would the owner of the passage use it to illuminate the dark path? It was almost at the point where the Professor couldn't breath, and a simple air-hole in the construction could have prevented this oversight: was it something the person endured? Or did something else… or someone else… consume the air in the hall before the Professor got here?

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the darkness.

…like a ripple, a voice came back, but not his own.

"Hello…"

He froze, his face growing pale in the dim light: he sniffed the air, and when he was looking for it, a faint scent was lingering… smoke.

"Don Paolo!? Is that you?"

How did he get here? The Professor's mind raced for the answer, and soon enough he realized: the doorman! Don Paolo was the doorman all along! The invitation for Flora, the smoking outside, the puzzle at the door… Layton clinched his teeth, angry at himself for not noticing earlier. .

"Slow to pick up on my disguise?" the voice sneered back in something of a controlling, condescending way. He was feeling confident: not his usual anger, but a cool, collected sort of hatred that implied he had more than a few aces hidden up his sleeve.

"Layton, Layton, Layton… you're probably wondering how I survived my little dip in the Thames, eh? Well, here's the secret…"

He let out a low snicker, but it was hard to hear: he must have been a good distance away from the Professor, at the least.

"I didn't."

"What? Explain!"

"Layton, you ignorant man! As a scientist, do you think I wouldn't notice St. Mysteria was composed entirely of robots? I was in possession Simon's body for quite a long time… more than enough for me to secure the secret of their creation."

"You don't mean-"

"I do. Right now, a little robot me is rusting away in the bottom of the river. And there are more, Professor… oh, so many more, just waiting for me to activate them! Just think! All those brilliant minds working together? Why, there is nothing we couldn't create, no treasure we couldn't steal, no empire we couldn't destroy! The world will be at my fingertips! But…"

Layton took a few steps back, afraid…

"There's only one annoying little gnat in my way… Edward McOpel… Once I secure him, everything will be ready!"

Layton's eyes widened. Edward? What did Edward have to do with this?

"But for now, Professor, It's you and me. Rest assured… once I find you… I'LL DESTROY YOU!"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 32)~**

**~Face-Off!~**

**60/60**

The hallways between you and the end of the maze are like so:

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor%20Layton% 20Questions/Face-off. jpg

Unfortunately, Don Paolo is currently there! Luckily, he's too eager to get to the Professor for him to stay there and wait.

Layton moves first. He can move to any square that has a line drawn between it and the square he is currently on. He cannot move backwards, however. Once he moves one square, Don moves.

Don Paolo will always take the fastest route to get to you: to elaborate, he'll find the path that will take the least number of moves to reach Professor Layton and follow it: he follows the same moving rules as Layton otherwise. Once he moves one square, it's the Professor's turn. The turns alternates between the two, Don ALWAYS taking the shortest path to get to Layton. If Don enters a square that is connected to the Professor's, then he'll find our hero!

Layton wins if he manages to elude Don Paolo and reach the end of the hall.

Be warned: you only have ONE shot to do this! If Don Paolo catches Layton, it's game over!

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This is hard, especially if you're honest and only allow yourself one go. No trial and error this time!

If you win, you get 60 Picarats. If you failed… there's hope for you yet! Have you been keeping track of your Picarats? Now you finally get to put them to use! If you have at least 500 Picarats, read below:

_Panting for air, the Professor quickly stopped and leaned against a wall: this was far too dangerous. One false move and his foe could lurch out of the darkness and end their rivalry once and for all. He couldn't see a thing past the dim glow produced by the weakened lantern, and everything around him echoed with foreboding footsteps, like it was a entire army of Don Paolo's after him, not just one. _

_Suddenly, Layton could see something: a dim flicker in the darkness beyond the radiance of his lamp: it must have been Don Paolo's cigar! He forgot to put it out! Thinking quickly, Layton completely extinguished the lamp, cloaking himself in total darkness: now, he could see Mr. Paolo's location just fine, while the Don couldn't hope to see the Layton in darkness this thick. _

_Slyly, the Professor slid past the confused and distraught scientist, and smiled to himself as he dashed towards the goal._

If you got this ending, you escaped an untimely demise, but you don't get any Picarats.

* * *

It was tempting to slam the wooden door behind the panicked professor, but rather, to keep the element of stealth, he noiselessly shut it to prevent giving away his location. However, when he did feel safe, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. The battle was only half over, though… he still had yet to escape this maze with the scientist on his tail. But now, he had to find what he could from this room: who knew how long he had before Don Paolo found where he was.

He turned his Lamp back to full power so he could more clearly see what was hidden here: it took his breath away.

The room was chock full with books, blueprints, letters, notes, papers, models… all pertaining to Teresa Harrison, but more specifically the sky prison itself! Wordlessly, the Professor gazed at the walls, intrigued by the designs created by this genius…

But something else caught his eye: for some reason, the sunsword was here, mounted on a wall with delicate care. He approached it, only to notice a letter was taped to the wall behind the weapon.

_Dear Teresa _

_We've managed to secure the Sun steel for you: we must confess, it is a dazzling sight to say the least. How did you come to know of this miracle metal? Surely your genius cannot be understated. _

_We found all of it we could, and we have just enough to begin construction: there were a few scraps left over, so to honor your achievements and your future, we've forged it into this ceremonial sword, hence known as the Sunsword. May it represent the blade of Justice as your prison ensnares the enemies of her Majesty. _

_Yours truly,_

_ Sir Gerold_

Layton gazed at the letter and pondered to himself: just enough to begin construction? Surely Sir. Gerold must be referencing the Prison… but why was it being built with such a curious material? As he continued to examine blueprints and papers, he noticed that this was apparently the plan all along: the operation's codename was even "Second Sun".

If the sunsword was kept here (which looked like it was the case, this was practically a shrine to the thing), then it was safe to assume that this room was commissioned by none other than Roark himself… but why keep it a secret? And why hide his knowledge from the Professor? Is the current user of the Sky Prison aware of this shrine? Were they ever here?

But his internal musings were interrupted when the door was suddenly kicked down, revealing a furious Don Paolo standing in the hallway, a Rapier held tightly in his white knuckles.

"LAYTON! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE THIS TIME!" He cried with rage before lunging at the Professor: Layton quickly grabbed the nearest object he could (a model of the Prison) and parried, before discarding his temporary shield… he had to get to the sunsword! In this light, it'd blind Don Paolo and he could escape!

But the Don was aware of Layton's plan, and attempted to get between the his foe and the sword: but Layton, acting fast, grabbed a nearby inkwell and threw its contents on the ground, causing the Scientist to slip on the ink. As he fell with a comical yell, Layton grasped the sword and closed his eyes as he unsheathed it.

Don Paolo wrenched, "GAH! MY EYES!" And Layton hid the sword once more.

Once he opened his eyelids, he was greeted to the sight of Don Paolo, flopping on the ground, covering his eyes.

"I do hate to do this, but you were trying to kill me…"

Kneeling next to the blinded Scientist, Layton struck the back of his neck with the handle of the blade, knocking him out.

With a final twitch, the man stopped moving, the only indication he was alive was his steady breathing.

Seeing the man try to kill him flop over, Layton couldn't help but smile, taking a deep, deep breath of satisfaction: finally, he was safe.

…well, mostly safe. He was still running out of air. He'd best take Don Paolo and get out of here: he'd have a good, long talk with the man before turning him into the police.


	17. Chapter 17

Authors notes: You know what annoys me? There's a severe lack of Professor Layton/Phoenix Wright fanfiction. I mean, you'd think they'd go together perfectly, Layton solving the crimes and Wright putting the criminals to justice…

AND, might I add, we don't have enough Profesosr Layton/Sherlock Holmes fanfiction. I mean, wtf? They take place right around the same time (sherlock holmes = late 1800's Professor Layton = Early 1900's) and it'd be so much fun… Ah, well.

I apologize, as well, because there isn't any puzzles this chapter. I tried to think of some but none really came to mind that wouldn't disrupt the flow of the chapter, and my first priority is to the plot. I hope ya'll can forgive me!

* * *

**Chapter 17**

**~Artificial Intelligence~ **

"So now, the only real question is if he's the real one."

"Bleck! He sure smell's like the real one, Professa…" Luke whined, waving his hand in front of his nose in something of a desperate effort to smack away the stench. They were all currently seated in the apartment, Layton long surrendering the notion of being able to slip into the orchestra unnoticed: after all, he had a fugitive in his company, who had yet to awake from his forced slumber.

But he had gained a lot more in this twist of events than a escape in the melody of music could have provided. Not only did he have more information, but a unwilling informant he could suck the information out of before turning him into the cops: it was a good day. But for now, the three sat patiently as they waited for the mad Scientist to awaken, all watching in anticipation at the man on the floor to awaken.

"Well, we could see if he bleeds." Flora suggested.

"No, a gentleman never hurts a captive man. We'll have to devise some other method."

"You know, Professa, Flora does bring up a good point. Perhaps the reason the stranger in Loki Publication's didn't bleed was because he was a robot." Luke reasoned.

"I theorize that he didn't bleed because he was strangled to death as opposed to attacked with a weapon. I didn't get a good look at the body, so I can't say for sure. You may be right, however, It would at least give some link between Don Paolo's robots and Edward…"

What did Edward have that Don Paolo needed? It was this question that was consuming the Professor now. Clearly whatever it was didn't prevent him from activating the robots, for one was in the river right now, so why not activate them and use their help?

His internal ramblings were interrupted when a sizeable groan came out of the scientists mouth, a few unsavory words slipping between his tongue as he sized up the situation: instinctively, Flora and Luke backed off, but Layton stayed dead fast in his chair, staring his downed rival with a teachers intensity.

"Good to see you up, Paolo. I trust you enjoyed your nap."

"Heh!" The man sneered. "It was a mistake taking me here, Professor! Now I know where you live!"

"This is clearly an apartment. Do you think I share a one-bedroom house with two children?"

Normally this would be grounds for suspicion on the Professor's part, but… this WAS Don Paolo. What he had in intellect he lacked somewhat in common sense.

"Quiet yourself! What do you want from me?"

"Answers. Why are you looking for Edward McOpel?"

"Like I'd ever tell you, you dog!" A smile crept upon his face. "I know you, Professor Layton. You'd never hurt a tied up man, so you cant threaten me. Besides, I know you're going to turn me in after you're done with me, so you can't bribe me either! You're stuck! You might as well turn me in and let me escape those pathetic boxes they call prisons."

It was true, the Professor found himself on the crossroad of a ethical dilemma. He had nothing to offer him except his freedom (and money, but the amount would have to be staggering), and he certainly couldn't threaten the man, they both know any threats would simply be bluffs. How could he drag the information out of him, particularly knowing that anything he told them could easily be a lie?

"You know what, Professa?" Luke smiled mischievously. "I bet he couldn't tell us even if he wanted to. I mean, why would that coward attack you directly when he could just send out another robot? I bet this is one of his mindless drones."

Luke, however, could make a threat. That might do it.

"Lies! I couldn't send another robot out even if I wan-" he caught himself suddenly and shut his lips again.

"Yeah, sure. He's just trying to save himself. I bet we could learn a lot about the _real _Don Paolo's misdoings if we took him apart… I'll get something to open him up with!"

"Wait, what? Layton, you won't allow this!" Don Paolo scoffed, a slight film of sweat appearing on his brow.

"Well, if you were the real Don Paolo I'd intervene, but a robot's fair game, I'm afraid. Besides, I'd love to see what it takes to build such a marvelous copy of one's self."

"B-but I am the real Don Paolo!"

"But how can you prove it? For example, I was having a hard time breathing in that oxygen deprived tunnel, and yet you were down there practically unperturbed. Do robots even need to breath?"

Luke came running in with a small box of tools and parts, blowing the dust off the cover: it was largely unused, stashed away in a closet so the maintenance crew could access it easily in the event they were needed.

"I was having a hard time too! I just hid it well!"

"Where do you suppose the switch is to turn him off?" Flora said, slowly becoming bolder in the face of the man who tried to abduct her.

"I'd wager the sooner we find that the better!" Luke chuckled as he took out two large, heavy instruments: frankly he had no idea what they were for, but they were daunting and he was good at giving the impression he knew what he was doing.

"S-stop! I am the real Don Paolo! I'll prove it!"

"How?" All three asked in unison.

"Listen here, you idiots!" He huffed. "The robot in the river was the prototype! The rest of my army is stashed away! One of you were in my hideout, right? How many robots did you see there?"

Nonwitstanding how he came to learn they had visited his residence, she sheepishly replied.

"Um… none."

"EXACTLY, you stupid girl!"

All four sat somewhat awkwardly, Luke slowly filing the blunt interments back into the box in which they came.

"In that case, where is this so-called army of robots, Don Paolo?"

He sighed, a small billow of smoke somehow coming from his lungs: how long it was lingering there was something the three didn't want to think about.

"Tell you what: I think we can both walk away winner's in this situation, eh layton?" A denomic smile spread across his thin lips. "I know you're a gentleman, stupidly so, and I know you can keep a promise."

His eye's glinted darkly.

"I'll tell you how to find the sky prison, but only if you, in turn, tell me its exact location afterwords." He chuckled, "You have to take me up on this, Layton… the sooner you can close this case the sooner the killings will stop."

Layton sat very quietly, looking Don Paolo straight in the eyes. But he didn't say anything. His silence was intimdating, fillingthe room with a thick, soffocating tension. Everyone was waiting for him to do something… would he make a deal with this devil?

Rather, he simply smiled.

"I'm afraid not, Don Paolo. You've told me all I need to know already."

Don's smile quickly turned into a scowel.

"WHAT?"

Luke and Flora were also surprised, but dramatically less so than the mad scientist: after all, they had faith in their teacher.

"Let's analyize the facts. For one, you sent the prototype to kill us: not one of your regular robots. Secondly, for some reason, you cannot activate your other robots. Thirdly, you need Edward McOpel. What can we deduce from this, Luke?"

* * *

**~(Let's Play Detective!)~**

**20/20**

What CAN we deduce from this, anyway?

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**The robots are being stored in the Sky Prison itself! **

How can you draw this conclusion? Let's break ti down. For one, it would make sense that Don Paolo had to practice before making his real robot army: he could do this at his hideout easily, and it would make sense to do so. However, to mass-produce these things, and to store them away without fear of being discovered, he'd need a big place only he knew existed.

If this was the case, what does Edward McOpel have to do with anything? He's a card-shark with no connections with St. Mysteria or Don Paolo. The only thing that could make him valuable is his knowledge… or his recent experiances. If he escaped the Sky Prison, and someone tried to kill him, that can lead us to the conclusion he knows something he shouldn't: such as the Sky Prision's location!

How the Don came to come across the Sky Prison in the first place is a bit of a mystery, but we know all we need to!

* * *

"Capital job, Luke!" Layton praised his apprentice with a pat on the head. "Thus, all we have to do is ask Mr. McOpel where the prison's location is, and we can wrap this case up."

But, just as suddenly as the smile had melted off the villains face, it re-grew, only twice as large this time.

"Heh… Layton, you honestly think it'll be that easy? That once Scotland Yard catches wind of the Prisons location, it'll end? You can't possibly be so naive!"

Layton turned his attention back to his rival, somewhat confused but mostly understanding of the true depth of the situation.

"This is more than just a mystery involving a kidnapper hiding himself up inside a long-abandoned structure. You stole that ad I was keeping away, didn't you? You should know there's more to this than meets the eye…"

"I don't know what you drew from that advertisement that I couldn't. There weren't any puzzles hidden in it." Layton calmly informed his prisoner.

"It's not always about puzzles, you know. Tell me this: why would I need to know the prisons location if I was hiding my robots there?"

"I can only presume it's because the Prison lives up to its namesake and is in the sky, where it can be moved."

"So, how do you suppose so many prisoners escaped?"

Layton paused: the question had popped into his head before, yet, somehow, in this light It did strike him as unusual: how COULD so many prisoners manage to escape a flying fortress? He imagined if the fall was a survivable one the Prison wouldn't be terribly hard to find, especially sense the prisoners seem to all wind up in London.

…what did Don Paolo know?

"There's more to this than you know, Layton, but you're too stupid to figure it all out! All the clues are right there in front of you, right under your nose! It's pathetic to see you struggle like this!"

Layton grimaced, calmly taking the ridicule on the outside, but inside, he was bothered endlessly over the fact that his antagonist figured something out before him. What key element was he missing?

"I'm tired of this. Take me to jail so I can escape already."

"I suppose we don't have much choice at this point." Layton stood up and pulled Don Paolo to his feet. "Let's go."

A hour later, the Professor returned, not speaking a word to his assistants and carrying a large, disposable paper cup in his hands, quickly sitting on a relaxing chair. It didn't take much to tell he was upset, particularly when one examined how quickly he sipped his tea as opposed to how he normally labored over a brew in order to feel entirely satisfied with it's flavor. For some reason, seeing the Professor consume commercial, cheaply prepared tea unnerved the children: the Professor was not normally the type to sacrifice quality for instant gratification.

Carefully, they stood next to him and watched him drink for a few minutes, unsure of what to say…

"So… what now?" Luke bravely asked.

Hearing this, Layton took another sip and sighed… the tea's generic flavor seemed to weaken its ability to relax the teacher.

"There's something I'm missing, Luke. I just need to think of what it is…" he was distracted, that was for sure. He was devoting most of his concentration on analyzing the case thus far… and trying to fight off the fear that his inadequacy thus far wouldn't cost another innocent their life. "What could Don Paolo notice that I couldn't?"

"Maybe it's not something you know, but something he did." Flora suggested. "Something that would allow him to connect two otherwise irrelevant points."

"Perhaps…" He sighed again. "I'm sorry, children, but I'm feeling a touch under the weather. It's getting rather late anyway, so we might as well head for bed and hope for some clarity tomorrow."

They nodded silently and took to the beds, allowing the Professor to be alone with his thoughts.

In the morning, Luke and Flora were unsurprised to see the Professor had dazed off on the chair. He had moved nigh an inch in his slumber, the now empty container still resting in his gentle grip. Aware that this nap was most certainly involuntary, Flora shook Layton awake, causing his eyes to shoot open and to gaze around, as if expecting to see something that wasn't there. Eventually, however, he managed to transfix his gaze on his two pupils.

"Ah, it appears the sandman nabbed me… well, no matter. I know what to do next."

The two once solemn faces instantly brightened up.

"Yeah? What!" They asked, excited.

"Don Paolo hinted at the idea that Edward could remember everything, which contradicts what Mr. Palmer said about their memories and correlated with what Icabob said. I think a final visit to Mr. Palmer is due."

"Good thinking, Professa!" Luke triumphantly shoved his fist into the air. "We'll get em' for sure now!"

"Indeed. Well, let's not waste any time. Let's grab a quick meal and be on our way."

Without a word of complaint, the three started to prepare for another day…

…and hopefully the final day of this case.


	18. Chapter 18

Authors notes: Big shout-out to kashiwamizu! Her/his review really gave me the motivation to get off my butt and finish this chapter! =D

It's hard for me to work without motivation, so reviews like that really help. Thanks, K!

Also, Fanfic's being stupid again, so I can't use my normal _ things to put distance between the questions and answers. so I had to do something else... sorry.

Edit: I'm very, very annoyed.

Not only was I unable to use my regular style of barrier for this chapter, but ALL THE CHAPTERS BEFORE IT HAVE THEIR BARRIERS ERASED. What's more, I've lost the original documents, so I can't edit them! This has REALLY pissed me off, because this pracitcally ruins all the puzzles in the gosh-darn fanfic, because there's no way to tell where the puzzle ends and the answer begins.

...I think it's time I take my work to someplace that isn't constantly trying to ruin everything I do. Perhaps livejournal...

* * *

**~(Chapter 18)~**

**~Misleading Truths~**

Coincidentally, when they got to Mr. Palmer's building, they found someone surprising there as well, arguing with the superintendent.

"What's my business matta, eh? I'm no villain, you can trust me! Comon, lemmie have his room numba!"

The super refused to budge on his position, however, causing Bella to continue her not terribly persuasive monologue on the topic of how trustworthy she was. Much to his relief, she eased up when she noticed Layton and co. walk into the room.

"Oy! If it isn't the one and only Professa! Still hard at work, I see!"

"That I am, ma'am." He smiled to mask his surprise. "What brings you here, may I ask?"

She scoffed. "I'd love to tells ya, but before I do that I was wonderin' if you could help me out first. See, I have this problem…"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 33)~**

**~Crazy Clocks~**

**15/15**

"I gots three clocks, see? Clocks 1, 2, n' 3. They all look the same, so I'm always gettin' the blasted buggers confused. This is a problem, see, cuz two of em' are off and only one o' em is on time!"

"So to fix this little problem, I hired a clock-repair man, see? Well, the cheapest one I could find was all foreign, right? Can't speak a lick of English. What's more, he's gotta have the world's worst attentionno or yes!"

"I want to find the one that's on time, an' he seems to know which one it is. How can I get him to tell me?"

Remember he won't understand to anything other than yes-no questions, so asking him to point to the right clock won't work!

Your operative goal is to determine which clock is the right one: the exact series of yes-no questions you ask can vary from person to person, but you can only get it right if you can be positive that within the span of three questions, you could figure out which clock is correct: you cannot simply assume or guess.

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

(BARRIER)

This is a much easier variant of the Three Gods puzzle, considered one of the hardest logic puzzles ever made. If you have free time, I'd suggest trying it!

But in lue of that, we have this little puzzle. To show you an example and to prove it's do-able, here's one way to do it:

Point to clock 1 and ask "Is this a clock?" Whatever he says, Ja or Da, you know that word now means yes, and the other must mean no.

Point to any of the clocks, 1, 2, or 3, and ask "Is this one on time?" He'll say yes or no. Let's assume it's the wrong one.

Point to either of the other clocks and ask the same thing. If he says no, then you've solved the puzzle: but if he says yes, then you know the last clock, the one you didn't point too, is the correct one, via the process of elimination. So you know without a doubt that one is the correct clock.

Correctness with nail you 15 picarats. Getting it wrong will reduce 10 from your score. Harsh, I know, but we're drawing close to our conclusion!

* * *

She grinned. "Ah, that's the trick! A load off my chest f' sure."

"Happy to help." Layton tipped his hat. "But I don't suppose you could tell me your business here?"

She nodded. "Ah, certainly. It's the darndest thing, Professa… I was workin' for Mr. Palmer at Loki Publications and suddenly he asks me to come to his office, sayin' something about a emergency. He gather's up the whole gang, and starts wavin' this necklace around saying all these strange and hypnotic words, and bam! Next thing I know I wake up in an apartment building actin' as the manager! Well, you'd best believe I marched right over to him to ask him what's goin on, but the Super won't tell me his room number!"

Luke, Flora, and Layton registered what it was she said, her accent even thick for their native English blood. In the span of a few moments, however, Layton seemed to grasp her message and smiled… it was a bit unusual she knew where is apartment building was, but he might of told her the general location in the event she needed him for something work related.

"I see… Well, we were on our way to see Mr. Palmer now. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you stopped by as well." He invited the woman, and she eagerly accepted, following them to his apartment, even running ahead so she could be the first one to knock the door down and demand to know what was going on.

…she would of made a good cop. She had a lot of energy tucked away in those bones of hers.

By the time Layton caught up, she had poor Mr. Palmer in a corner, staring at him with a intimidating, demanding gaze.

"I-I can explain everything! Layton!" he noticed his associate enter the room. "Thank goodness you're here! Help me out!"

"I have to confess," Layton said, standing next to the beet-red woman, "I'm just as curious as she is as to the meaning of this. Right now, it certainly seems you're the villain of this whole ordeal."

"I swear I'm not! Hear me out!" he was panicked, something which could be a sign of guilt, or simple worry that he'd go to jail an innocent man.

"Well? We're waitin'!" Luke commanded, joining the slurs of accusations.

He sighed…

"When Edward was found out, I knew that Loki Publication was no longer a safe place, for the refugees or the employees. I had to disband the operation, as you know, but I feared that if I told my employees the truth, they'd become targets… or, worse, spill the beans to the public. I couldn't think of a good excuse to explain ending Loki Publication as I had always told them that it was a very lucrative business, so-"

"-What in the blazes are you talking about?" Bella demanded, not understanding his plea at all. Layton reassured her that he understood what was going on thus far and calmed her slightly.

"…anyway, I couldn't think of an excuse, so I used a little trick Icabob taught me. A simple, noninvasive little hypnosis trick to get them to leave without having to put them at risk…

Luke and Flora gasped a this, not believing exactly what it was he had just said.

"Hypnosis? You mean like mind control?"

"Well, it wasn't THAT bad..." He attempted to defend himself, "It was for their good I assure you! I just erased their memories at Loki's and sent them on their way!"

Layton didn't share the shocked sentiment that Luke and Flora had expressed… in fact, upon hearing this bit of information, the last pieces of the puzzle clicked together.

"I see. Was it intentional that she was to gain her memories back?" He asked.

"No, it wasn't supposed to happen… but I'm hardly a master at this so I suppose it kind of wore off."

"I understand." Layton smiled, a small, yet powerfully genuine smile. "Thank you, Mr. Palmer. This information was very important, and I think I can put this case to a close now. Come, Luke, Flora. We have to visit Edward."

"W-wait!" Palmer called to them as Layton started to turn, "What did you discover? What do you know?"

"Respectfully, Mr. Palmer," Layton replied, not stopping his leave as he spoke, "I cannot disclose what I've learned yet. You can expect a letter from me in the post explaining it all when the matter is settled. Good day."

And so the three left one confused Mr. Palmer and his confused and disgruntled former employee alone in his cluttered home.

"So?" Luke finally asked, his build-up of curiosity finally escaping his brain after forcing it down all through the apartment complex, "Who's the villain? What's going on?"

The puzzle-master hailed a Taxi, and with some hesitation spoke: he wasn't used to revealing the truth until he had confronted the villain and everyone involved was in the vicinity… it was something of a essential archetype of his profession. But, rather than prioritize ascetics over necessity, he revealed what he had learned as they boarded the taxi.

"Here's what I've come to believe is the truth, thus far. Our friend Don Paolo, still vengeful over his last crushing defeat, decided he'd best utilize the information he had come across while in St. Mysteria to get revenge on me… after making the prototype and realizing what a daunting task it would be to construct an army of these robots confined entirely within his rather cramped apartment, he realized he'd need a new base. I suppose a man of his intellectual capacity managed to come across information about the sky prison and decided it'd be a prime spot to continue his construction."

A sizeable bump on the road disrupted his rant, but afterwards he continued.

"So he came to discover the Sky Prison and continued construction there. Unfortunately, something must have distracted him and caused him to abandon his work-site for some large amount of time… if I had to wager, he found the prospects promised by the Elysian box more appealing than the hard work of creating a super army. But with him away, I think our villain in this case happened to find the site again."

Flora stared at the Professor intently. "And who is that?"

"None other than Icabob himself. While his motivation is unclear, here is what I've gathered on the man: working at his father's circus, he must have been the hypnotist that the advertisement was talking about."

"How did you come to that conclusion? Mr. Palmer?"

"More than that. That advertisement was old, as you well know, and it wouldn't be in one of today's papers. Likewise, looking at it, there'd be no way to tell that the Hypnosis was someone of relevance… unless you'd been to that circus before. Hence, I concluded that the reason Don Paolo could draw more from that advertisement than we could was because perhaps, as a child, he had been to the circus himself and was able to see Icabob do his act."

"I see… but I'm still lost, Professa. What does him being a hypnosis have to do with anything?"

"Glad you asked. Roark, the leader of the Black Dogs, is clearly something of a hobbyist when it comes to information about his famous ancestor, Teresa… yet, he wanted to keep this information a secret. Why? Guilt."

"What?" Both cried at the same time.

"You wouldn't understand how I know this, but at the initiation ceremony, he knighted me with the sunsword, saying that it would help 'purge the weapon of its sins', or something akin to that statement. Now, the weapon itself, I should of realized sooner, was a ceremonial blade: even in the hands of a master swordsman, it would be hard-pressed to kill anything. However, the sword was said to represent the sky prison itself: so the real sin it was purging was the stain on the family's name Teresa had made by creating such an awful place! Roark is a collector of antiques, and something of a historian from what he was able to dig up about Teresa. I think he knows that such a fortress would never be a good thing in the hands of any country. It'd be too easy to abuse."

Luke and Flora nodded, but were still a bit lost.

"Icabob, when he met Roark and realized what the sword represented, must of known that his friend knew quite a bit about the flying jail than he let on. So, with a little hypnosis, he managed to convince the man into telling him all he knew… and then using hypnosis again to make him unable to tell anyone that he had inquired about its whereabouts… hence why he had that unusual episode when I asked if anyone else had been digging for information yesterday."

Which didn't mean anything to Luke and Flora, but Layton wasn't about to leave a thought unfinished.

"Plus, there's the matter of the prison and its prisoners themselves. Don Paolo made a good point in asking how they were able to escape a flying prison. Well, seeing Bella, I realized how this happened."

Luke and Flora leaned in closer.

"They never did. Listen… when Icabob came to learn about the sky prison, he found it unoccupied, and took it as his base: from their, he kidnapped people."

"Why?" the two children said in unison.

"Practice. I don't know exactly what it is he's scheming, but in order to achieve it, he wants to use hypnotized people. The problem is, as Mr. Palmer showed us, his technique isn't perfect. In fact, the people he's brainwashed tend to regain themselves with some regularity."

"Which is how they escape!" Luke finished the sentence.

"Right. They're in the middle of some task, and they come to their senses and can escape. That explains how they escape and how they all wind up in London. Plus, it solves the mystery of why the people need to be killed: they remember everything, so to protect the sky prisons location, they're killed by professional assassins. In fact, I think the whole halfway-house scheme was merely a way to keep better track of escapees. By spreading out the killings to multiple locations, it's harder to establish a link to one person or place."

"But what about their memories? Was Mr. Palmer lying about them not remembering anything?"

"No, Luke. In fact, I think both men were telling the truth in that instance. When they find Icabob, or rather, when Icabob finds them, he tells them to not talk about where they were taken, to pretend they forget with the pretense that it'd help protect them. Then, when they're sent to the halfway houses, which mean to help them, the runners of these establishments won't be able to run their own investigation. Little do they know they're really just aiding the assassination attempts by keeping escapee's in one place."

"So what about the newspaper, then?"

"There's more than one halfway house. I imagine the newspaper was just a way for any assassins to learn which one the target was hiding in."

"And what about our house? How did they know what we were doing? And that assassin that knocked you out in the night?"

"The assassin I'm unsure of. I have a strong suspicion that's our ally Lanks… but his role in this drama is still a mystery to me. How they came to learn of our plans is also a bit of an enigma… perhaps Lanks is playing the role of double agent?"

"I see…" Luke considered the angles closely. "So how come-"

His question was interrupted before he could even finish it by the screeching of the taxi breaks.

"Here we are. Pay up and git out."

"Hold that thought, Luke. We're here." Layton announced, paying the taxi its dues and exiting the car, Luke and Flora quickly following suit. When the car pulled away, their vision of the street was entirely unobscured, and they could see the stand where Edward was working… and thankfully, Edward was in it.

Layton approached, and Edward, recognizing him from their previous encounter, looked anxious.

"What is it now, Professor? Did you want to ruin yet another one of my games?"

"Not exactly." Layton smiled. "Edward McOpel, we know of the recent events which have so profoundly shaped your life so far. All we need is your cooperation, and we can shut down the Sky Prison for good, and you won't have to live in fear anymore. What do you say?"

At first, the only real indicator of his hearing the Professor at all came from the look of pure shock echoing through his dull eyes. Otherwise, he was still, as if a fleshy statue had replaced him the instant he heard the Professor's words. However, time melted this façade and he slowly started to absorb what it was Layton had said, and with a grimace he looked away.

"I see… wait one moment."

He turned around and started to fidget around with something, and the distinct sound of a gun being loaded could be heard: instantly the children started to panic, worrying they'd reached a unceremonious end to their adventures, but when they looked up to see Layton's cooling smile, they realized they had nothing to worry about: if Layton wasn't worried, there wasn't need to be either. Soon enough, they learned Layton's collected composure was well-founded, as the man turned around and placed the lethal weapon in front of the Professor.

"Now, I know I get my living conning people, but for you, Professor, I've devised something a little more devilish. If you want any information out of me, you'll have to prove you can solve this case before my safety becomes compromised… and you have the courage to do what's necessary to bring the Prison down."

* * *

**~(Puzzle 34)~**

**~Russian Roulette ~**

**50/50**

A standard six-chamber revolver is presented to the professor: inside it is five bullets, with one chamber empty. You cannot see the inside of the chambers.

But on the outside of each chamber, a color is painted: Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple, Orange, and Indigo, respectively.

Which chamber is empty?

Seeing as the consequences of failing this puzzle might be detrimental to Layton's continued health, I've provided 2 hints for you.

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Hint 1

The only information you can use to determine which chamber doesn't have a bullet is the color painted outside it. With no other information provided, that must mean that there's an odd color out to tell you which one is it… but which one? Don't be so quick to assume it's indigo!

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Hint 2

Don't worry so much about the colors themselves, look at the words.

Which one is the **Odd** one out?

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Careful… are you sure you're right? You'd better hope so…

The chamber without the bullet is…

….green!

(whew) close one! Good thing that was your answer, right?

Obviously, with no other indication than the colors, they themselves must of held the telltale hint as to which one was empty. However, the color itself wouldn't do you any good, you had to look at the word.

Remember hint two? The Odd one out?

Green is the only color in that list with an odd number of letters in it!

There were other factors that separated the colors, such as the shade, but sense more than one color usually shared a trait, you had to look for something you were positive was unique to a single color.

If you got this right, you get 50 Picarats. One hint will bring you to 47 and two, 44. Failure will result in a bad shock when you discover the bullets were blanks, so you'll only gain 35 Picarats.

* * *

"Very good…" Edward praised. "That wasn't an easy thing to do, and it proved you have the calmness and the trust in yourself to see this through. What do you need out of ol' Jerry?"

"A location. Where is the Sky Prison now?"

He closed his eyes and scoffed.

"Where else? The sky! But I suppose you need a bit more than that? Let me tell you, I didn't have it as easy as the other escapee's… they were lucky enough to break free of his brainwashing in London, I was still on the cursed Prison when I got free. Unless he moved, then you'll find them over the English channel a bit."

"Wouldn't it be noticed by passing ships?"

"Normally, yeah, I suppose. But at night it's too dark to see the thing, and in the day they have this shell up that's real bright, and so when people see it they assume it's the sun."

"I see…"

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Could you come to learn what it is the man who kidnapped you wanted?"

"…as a matter of fact, yeah. He sent us all on these odd little errands like 'go steal this' and 'go run to here and back'. It didn't make much sense, but I know a bit about politics and a lot of the stuff he asked us to do was like trainin' to be a spy."

"A spy?"

"Yep. Maybe he wants to seal some government secrets from mainland Europe."

"Ah… well, thank you, my good man. But we must be on our way." Layton tipped his hat and started to stride off, moving quite quickly, the two children keeping pace at his heels.

"Well? What now?" Flora asked.

"What else? We need to get to that Prison…"

But, naturally, that'd involve solving one heck of a puzzle: how to reach it.


	19. Chapter 19

Authors note: Well, I've stopped pouting. I was really down about that whole puzzle thing, but… well, most of the reviews are complimenting the story rather than the puzzles, so I guess they're not the main draw in the first place. So, I owe it to ya'll to keep up the story.

Anyway, sorry about this being so late. Because of said pouting I wasn't working on this at all for a good share of the week. But at least I'm working on It now! =D

Final note, don't throw away your Picarat count just yet! I still plan on using them for all those people who solved the puzzles before this mess.

Edit: OMG! Lookit! http: // en. wikipedia . org/wiki/Professor_Layton_and_the_Wandering_Castle

I'll be darned... It looks like I've stolen a story, dosn't it? Look, I had no idea this story existed until recently, so I apologize... sorry... I just can't keep writing a story knowing I ripped it off, intentionally or no.

So... stories over, then...

* * *

**~(Chapter 19)~**

**~Layton's Landing ~**

The two eyes locked. Both men had dark, reflective eyes, and as they stared at each other, the colors seemed to merge in their iris to create a shade as inky as the moonless midnight sky. Swirling behind each eye was a complex tapestry of emotions and calculations, intricately and subliminally dancing in their eyes, so that the other could read them for but a moment before the thought was wisped away by the gale storm of intellect that raged in their minds.

The silence they shared was brief, yet memorable. In an unusual sort of way, both men wanted to preserve the silence, as it appeared to unify the men together, almost as if their minds were linked for the shortest of moments, allowing them to tap into the deep, innermost workings of the not unsubstantial intellect of their partner.

But the silence was a demon that needed to be slayed, and it was the Inspector who took the role of slayer.

"You want… a balloon." He repeated, making sure he understood the full extent of the Professors request.

"Right." He replied, confirming the Inspectors knowledge as true.

Once again, the silence took hold… until Luke interrupted abruptly.

"Come on with it already!"

"Right, right…" Layton agreed, "we can't stand here awkwardly all day. Do you have a hot air balloon, per chance?"

Not as eager as the Professor was to snap out of his apathetic state, the Inspector sighed.

"Whatever would make you think I had a hot air balloon?"

"That riddle you gave me a few days back seemed rather tell-tale, I figure it was worth a shot."

Chelmey looked at Luke, then Flora, then Layton finally.

"I don't, but Scotland Yard does. But it wouldn't be able to carry all of you even if I did let you use it."

"Really? If it can't carry a grown man and two children, it must not be in terribly good shape."

The Inspector shook his head.

"No, it can't carry TWO full grown men and two children. What in the blazes makes you think I'd let you go without supervision?"

"Oh… right."

"What's more, should you really be bringing children in the first place? This man clearly doesn't mind killing innocents."

At this, Luke intervened again.

"We can hold our own against Don Paolo! We're not scared of this madman!".

"Enough outta you!" Chelmey barked, " You're too young to know what's good for you yet!"

"Correct me if I'm mistaken," Layton took back the spotlight, "But you make it sound like you'll let us use the Balloon."

Chelmey, calming down once more, nodded slowly.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. For all the help you've been in this case, the least I could do is take you to the final scene of the crime..."

A uniform sigh of relief spread through the room, but it was abruptly killed when Chelmey spoke again.

"...but I refuse to take off with kids! What kind of police officer would take children to such a dangerous place? I only took Flora to Don Paolo's hideout because I knew he'd be out, but this place is probably infested with bloodthirsty criminals! No sir, I won't have it!"

Why was it, the children had to wonder, that for all the times for Chelmey to be noble, it had to be for a cause that would prevent them from accompanying the Professor on the final leg of this mission?

"Is there any way we could get you to reconsider?" Flora asked in something of a last-ditch effort.

"Look, even if I wanted to take you, which I don't, I couldn't get the girl off the ground with all that extra weight. Sorry, but no. On this I stand firm."

Both the children let out a disappointed sigh, filled with grief and lament, and it was once again up to the Professor to cheer them up.

"Now, now… don't feel bad. He's right, it is probably too dangerous for you to go anyway, and there's nothing fun about going to a Prison."

"But, But, Professa…"

"Luke…"

"Fine…" they submitted themselves to the cruelness of realty, and Layton smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry. If it's a balloon ride you want I'll take you on one after this trip, as a reward for your dedication. But for now, we need to get a move on."

It was at that moment that the Inspector reinserted himself into the conversation.

"Not really. If what Edward said is true than we could never board onto the prison at day, we'd be blinded by the metal. We have to wait until night to make our move."

The trio found themselves once again in a status of shock, not expecting the Inspector to notice something the Professor wouldn't, albeit momentarily.

"…right." Layton agreed without much another word, not wanting to imply the Inspector was his inferior (which was most likely the case) to avoid offending his benefactor.

"Come back at sundown and we'll get ready. Until then, you might as well bugger off. I have other business I need to attend to."

And then they were rather forcefully removed from the premise.

* * *

**~(Puzzle 35)~**

**~Minute Hand Math~**

**30/30**

It's 1pm when Layton and co get to the park to waste time until sundown.

180, 90, 180, 270, 360, 45, 90, 45, 180, 760, 45, 360, 45, 90

The sun has set! What time is it now?

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Be careful…

It's 8:30!

This may be confusing, but if I was more specific it would have been to easy. First off, you know for sure that those numbers don't represent minutes or hours: if that was the case then it'd easily be the next morning, not sunset.

So what do the numbers represent? Angles! People who do math a lot probably recognized the numbers. If you start at 1 sharp, that means the minute hand is over the 12. Move it 90 degree's to the right and you're on the 3! Fifteen minutes have passed!

Do all the angles and the math and you'll find out that 7 hours and 30 minutes have passed, making it 8:30.

If you got this right, congratulations for thinking outside the box! 30 points for you! The rest of you won't be punished too severely, this was doable but it certainly takes creativity. You get 22 picarats.

* * *

The sun was mostly hiding behind the horizon now, its brilliant rays masked behind the earth, allowing the moon to take control of the heavens for another night. As both celestial bodies started to move, so did Layton, as he and his passé walked in silent anticipation towards the police station, where an expectant Inspector was waiting for them at the door.

"Good to see you again, Professor. Ready?"

"Most certainly." He smiled, although it seemed somewhat artificial, "Let's get a move on."

Chelmly gestured for them to follow, and they took his lead as he started to walk through the yard. As they meandered, Chelmey informed them of some troubling news.

"Everything's ready except the Balloon itself, I fear. I forgot why she was put out of commission in the first place, it turns out she has a rather sizeable hole in her. Not only that, but the only piece of material that could act as an adequate cover is misshapen, so it won't fit on the hole. I'm telling you, Professor, it's not looking good…"

Layton seemed considerate.

"Well, let me have a look at it…"

* * *

**~(Puzzle 36)~**

**~Hole in the Sky~**

**10/10**

Looks like the hot air balloon has seen better days.

http: //i301. photobucket. com/albums/nn67/ Pocru/Professor%20 Layton%20Questions/HoleintheSky Question. jpg

What's more, the cloth needed to cover up the hole has quite an unusual shape. As you can see, It barely covers the whole as is. However, if you cut and slide some pieces, you can get a simple shape that covers the hole.

Can you figure out what needs to be cut and where to move it, and in what order?

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Pretty easy, yeah? Clearly making these kind of puzzles isn't my strong suit.

http ://i301 .photobucket .com/albums/nn67/ Pocru /Professor%20Layton%20Answers/HoleintheSkyAnswer .jpg

This is pretty easy, the only thing that would really trip you up is the order: If you moved the big piece before the little one, then it wouldn't be able to "slide" into the hole.

Ten points for perfection. If you got it wrong, five points. A Hefty toll, but I'm guessing you could only get this wrong if you were being careless.

* * *

"And there we have it!" Layton smiled as he rearranged the pieces of the giant jigsaw puzzle, "That should do the trick."

"Well," Chelmey begrudgingly admitted, "you got that fixed in a snap. I must confess, Layton, you still astound me."

"Why, thank you." The Professor humbly accepted the praise, knowing full well how difficult it must have been for the officer to say such a thing.

"It won't take long to get this patch on now… send the kiddies home before we're finished."

Layton nodded, and as Chelmey turned his attention to direct the repairs of the balloon Layton turned his attention to the kids.

"Well, this is it…" he sighed, and made no effort to hide the fact he was distraught. "I'm a bit nervous, I'll admit, but I have to do this. People's lives are at stake."

Luke and Flora met his edgy behavior with large, supportive smiles.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Professa!" Luke chimed in, "You're the one and only Professor Layton! If anything, it's that scoundrel Icabob that needs to worry!"

"Right!" Flora added, "You're smart, clever, and strong! If anyone can do this, it's you!"

Layton, hearing the heart-felt words of his loyal companions, smiled as well.

"Thank you both. Once I take off, you can return to the house and rest up. I promise, I'll be back when you wake up in the morning."

"You'd better! A gentleman never breaks a promise, remember!" Luke warned, pointing his finger at his mentor, pretending to be threatening.

"Hey." Chelmey's gruff voice interrupted the Kodak moment, "Hate to break up this pepfest, but the balloons ready."

"Right." Layton turned to face the Inspector, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

As the two men boarded the Balloon, Luke and Flora waved enthusiastically, watching enviously as their mentor, friend, and father lifted off into the air, into the domain of the clouds above them.

Layton waved back, and they continued to wave until they were too far away to see.

Up in the frozen sky, Chelmey snorted a little.

"Good kids."

Layton nodded.

"Indeed they are..."

After those words were exchanged, the ride was bathed in silence.

The gales were stinging and cold, lashing at the two invaders as they wandered the winds domain. The wicker basket, warrant of the looming balloon, swayed and danced in the fierce billowing of the wind, rocking the inhabitants as they desperately tried to protect their skin from the freezing air. Layton had a miniature telescope to his eye, scanning the dim horizon for any sign of the Prison in question, while Chelmey kept the Balloon steady, preventing it from crashing into the angry sea below them.

"You know, Layton," The man gruffly grumbled, "The English channel is a rather large body of water. We could be up here for days searching…"

"Not so." Layton informed his companion as he continued to peer through the glass. "Edward said they used the shell of the prison to hide from boats… so it's safe to say that wherever it is it's on a passage used by sailors between England and the rest of Europe."

"There's something I don't get about that, by the way. Wouldn't sailors get suspicious when they saw two suns in the sky?"

Layton hesitated.

"I'd imagine so. But even if they did report such a phenomenon, I'm not sure anyone would take their word on it. Salors aren't exactly well known for their integrity."

"Seems more like a plothole to me…" the inspector mumbled under his breath…

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Well, in any case, if the Prison is over the channel, than it'd make sense that it resides over a boating route… after all, the hypnotized people had to get to England somehow, and they probably stow away on incoming French vessels."

"Why French?"

"They're the closest and fastest. On a good boat it only takes about six hours to reach their shores, I think."

"Well, we'll check out some of their routes, then. Hold onto your hat, Layton!"

A sudden shift in the balloon's motion jolted the Professors hat off his head, but with an insane level of reflex caused by his adrenaline, his hand shot up and fixed the hat back onto his hair.

The moon was high in the sky, and large, as well, dominating the darkness and putting the many stars around it to shame. However, even under its silver brilliance, it was straining for the Professors eyes to try to spot the fortress… but something was soon to fix this.

"Here we are!" Layton called out to his half-asleep companion. "I found it!"

Jumping half a foot, the startled inspector got up and dashed over. "You found the Prison? Let me see!"

He snatched the Telescope away and peered through it, eventually identifying its dim outline in the night sky.

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle." He explained, "There she is…"

It was hard to see anything definitive in the blackness of the sky, but it could still be seen. Giving the Telescope back, the Inspector took control of the balloon once more and started to move it towards the prison…

It was slow going, and each second felt like a minute as the once distant and small prison started to grow bigger and more intimidating. The Shell covering the exterior of the building was massive, to say the least, and dwarfed the balloon as it got closer and closer…

"By Jove, how did the government keep such a gargantuan structure hidden away so long?" Layton had to ask, his eyes not once straying from the approaching building.

"I can't say for sure, I was never told such things." He replied, his focus mostly devoted to landing the Balloon safely, "But we've got a good share of unused land. I'm sure tucking it away in the hills wouldn't be that hard… the real question I have is how it became operational. When the Project closed down the Prison was still in separate, earthbound chunks."

"I'd recon Don Paolo fixed it up…"

"Whatever the case, we're approaching a landing dock. Get yourself ready."

The Balloons decent slowed to a crawl as the Inspector angled the basket just so, in an effort to land as quietly and safely as possible. He was a bit rusty, seeing as there was a decent chance he rarely ever used the thing, but all in all his performance was satisfactory and they landed without a hitch.

"Alright." He instructed as the wicker base scraped against the metal landing pad, "It's up to you from here on out."

"What?" Layton asked, confused by this statement.

"Someone has to stay here, with the Balloon. If it were to be found and captured we'd have no way off this blasted place. Besides, there's a good chance we'll need to make a quick getaway, and the Balloon should stay inflated in that case."

"I know why someone should stay with the Balloon," Layton informed his comrade, "I'm just surprised you're not giving that task to me."

"You don't have the training to keep the Balloon safe from danger or to prevent it from floating off."

He was clearly upset over the situation, that much could be read on his face, but he knew that he'd have to put his pride aside if he wished to put an end to this case.

"Alright. I won't let you down." Layton tipped his hat in Chelmey's direction and started for the entrance into the citadel in the heavens.

"Good luck…"


End file.
